Plausible Deniability
by Ms Orton
Summary: So what does an egotistical genius have to offer his workaholic boss on her 39th birthday? Isn't it obvious?... Perhaps not to either of them. Post-'Joy'/AU Huddy.
1. Chapter 1

_So my 'Fic Pimp' gave me a prompt to write a story set back in Season 5, post 'Joy'. It started off as a one-shot and then grew in my head into something a little longer and considerably less fluffy, because apparently my mind won't allow me to do that with these two characters._

_Anyway this is a weird hybrid of AU with some of the events that actually happened woven in for good measure. I hope it works!_

_Shore owns them._

* * *

Heading through the foyer, Cuddy made her way back to her office relieved that the day had finally come to an end, and that the weekend stretched out in front of her more or less work-free. Rubbing the back of her taut neck with one hand, she pushed open the door making a mental plan to eat and then slip into a hot bath before sinking into her bed, when she felt something long and solid blocking her progress across the room. Sighing to herself, she knew only one person could be this exasperating and turned to address the man sat on the sofa holding his cane out in front of her.

"House I'm not in the mood… Your patient's fine. Go home!"

Dropping his cane back down to the ground, he got up and followed her as she walked to her desk and unceremoniously plonked herself down in her chair, mimicking the action as he sat opposite her.

"So I was thinking…" Cuddy snorted derisively as she searched through one of her drawers. Ignoring her House continued. "It's your birthday tomorrow and seen as you hated the edible underwear I bought you last year…"

"That was _you_?!" she asked incredulously, and then rolled her eyes at him. "Of course it was you."

"The look on your face was hil…" The current expression on his boss' face could have turned milk sour so he decided to clear his throat and sidestep. "_Anyway_… I was thinking about what I should get you and I settled on this."

Pulling an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, he pushed it across the desk towards her. Picking it up Cuddy eyed him suspiciously. House didn't do random acts of kindness.

"So what is it? Anthrax?"

"The whole idea of giving someone a present is that they open it."

Somewhat nervously the Dean of Medicine ran her finger under the sealed flap of the envelope and pulled out the contents, regarding them with increasing confusion as she thumbed through the pages and then lifted her head to look at him again.

"You know House, I'm really happy for you that you don't have herpes, hepatitis, chlamydia and all the other things you've been tested for here, but I have no idea what that's got to do with me… What do you want me to do? Frame them?" Holding them up in the air for emphasis, she regarded him blankly. Whatever he was up to this time, he'd lost her on this one.

As if annoyed by her stupidity, he expelled the air from his lungs and rested his chin on top of his cane.

"I know you're not always the brightest spark, but I thought even you would be a bit quicker than that." Still she looked at him blankly. "That's not the present, I am… Come to mine tomorrow and we'll celebrate your birthday with a bang. Literally." With her brow furrowed Cuddy lifted one leg onto her desk and then the other, crossing the second over the first before throwing her head back and laughing heartily. Across the way from her House looked puzzled. "A lesser man would feel hurt."

"It's a lovely offer and all, but I think I'll pass."

"Why?" he inquired with an urgency that made her question if he was actually being serious. "I know you're not doing anything."

"I'm spending the day with my sister and her family."

"No you're not… I heard you telling her yesterday that you'd see her next week."

Mentally chastising herself she remembered him bursting into her office the day before, just as she was finishing off a phone conversation with Julia. Naturally he'd remember her parting words to someone else when most of the time whatever she said to him went in one ear and out of the other. The truth was she had no real plans. There was a bottle of wine in the fridge and a book she'd been planning to start, but other than that her thirty-ninth birthday would be spent in much the same way others had been spent in the past few years; on her own. It wasn't exactly unintentional. Spending the day with her Mother would leave her open to incessant nagging about ending up an old spinster. Spending it with her sister and her family was another subtle reminder that another year had ticked by, and she was still childless.

"I know you're bored because Wilson's heading off to see family this weekend, but if you're desperate for company why don't you call a hooker?"

"I'm not desperate and I don't want a hooker," House said slowly, his blue eyes penetrating hers and emphasising his sincerity. "Things have been weird between us since you stuck your tongue down my throat."

"I stuck my tongue down your throat?!"

"Fine!" he conceded with a blasé shrug. "We were both equally responsible for the tonsil hockey."

Pausing to evaluate the situation, Cuddy swept her legs off the table and scrutinised the man sat a couple of feet in front of her. Part of her couldn't quite believe that she hadn't already physically removed him from the building, let alone her office and yet she couldn't deny he had a point. Things had been strained between them ever since they'd kissed, not least of all because they both knew it could have gone further. No matter how much they'd buried it, or pretended it only existed in the past, the attraction was still there and had almost bubbled over the night she'd lost Joy. Nevertheless sleeping with him would mean playing with fire and risking being burned, no matter how striking the flame was to her.

"So let me get this straight. You want us to have sex so things can go back to normal?"

"Precisely," he nodded in response. "I let you screw me senseless for your birthday, we get whatever _this_ is out of our systems, and then we go back to being boss lady and model employee."

It was straight-forwardness to his tone that annoyed Cuddy. He appeared to have it all worked out with no real thought for either the possible implications, or even her feelings on the matter. Curious to see where he was going with it though, she humoured him.

"Ok, so in the unlikely event I did go through with this, what's stopping you from announcing the fact on the hospital tannoy as soon as you came back to work?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a group email," he cracked with a wry smirk. Just as she'd suspected he was messing

"Because me losing my job is hilarious, isn't it House?" Ignoring him as she sorted the files on her desk and put a couple of folders in her bag, she finally regarded him again when he coughed to get her attention. "Still here then?"

All sign of mirth evaporating from his features, he returned her gaze with a similar intensity.

"I've got no intention of telling anyone. It'd be between us."

"And you'd seriously be able to resist the urge to tell Wilson?" she asked with genuine scepticism. Him not divulging the details to their mutual friend seemed completely unrealistic. In his mind half of the fun would be re-counting the juicy details to a semi-willing audience.

"I never told him about the fertility injections." Cuddy's mouth opened as if she was about to speak and then closed again in quick succession, obviously deciding to censor whatever she was going to say. Feeling the need to fill the awkward silence House pressed on. "Besides, you've got plausible deniability on your side. If I tell someone we had sex and you deny it, who are they going to believe?... Everybody knows I can be creative with the truth."

Biting her lip, Cuddy looked away and ran a hand through her hair. That they were even discussing this seemed surreal, but she couldn't deny that he right. She may not be able to get away with lying to him, but she was damn sure she could be convincing enough to fool anybody else should he not be able to keep it to himself. Despite this, she still wasn't entirely clear on his motives.

"What would you be getting out of this?"

"You mean aside from the fact I'd get to see you with your ankles behind your ears?" House asked amusedly, causing her to push back her chair, pick up her bag and get to her feet in disgust. She was tired, confused and had no intention of sticking around to listen to him talk about treating her like a piece of meat.

"We're done here, House!"

Just as she was about to coast past him, his hand encircled her wrist and pulled her back to face him.

"I'm sorry… That was uncalled for."

"You're damn right it was!" his boss agreed, pulling her arm away from him and perching on the desk next to him. "I'm not one of the prostitutes you pay to do whatever you want to."

Dropping his head, he focused his attention on a rough patch of skin at the side of his index finger and rubbed his thumb over it feeling like a complete asshole. But being around her these days made him nervous, and when he was nervous his mouth got into gear before his brain did.

"You honestly think I'm not well aware of that?" Looking up he saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. "I need this job, Cuddy, and for me to stay in this job means you have to stay in yours as well… If we don't deal with whatever this is between us, one way or another it's going to end up blowing up in both our faces." Rising to his feet, he rounded the chair and stood in front of her. "I'll be at home all evening after seven tomorrow. Come round, or don't. It's your decision."

Without waiting for her to respond, House turned on his heel and limped out of the office, letting the door slam noisily behind him and leaving Cuddy alone to gather her thoughts.

For the umpteenth time in her life she knew she'd be having a restless night because of him.

* * *

Restlessly House looked at the clock on top of the mantelpiece, and scratched the top of his head disappointedly. For over two hours he'd sat on the sofa and fidgeted as he watched seven 'o' clock become eight and now nine, slowly reconciling himself to the fact that Cuddy wasn't coming and feeling increasing like a moron. Of course she wasn't! Either she had decided he wasn't being serious and this was another prank in a catalogue of practical jokes he'd played against her over the years, or she knew his invitation was genuine, and this was her opportunity get him back for all the game playing. Whatever the reason he felt surprisingly dejected. That flicker of 'something' he'd seen in her eyes the night before had made him hope that she'd give his offer serious consideration, but clearly that wasn't the case.

Wearily House pulled himself to his feet and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer. With Wilson unavailable to torment over the weekend he may as well get blind drunk and crawl into bed semi-conscious and _alone._

Just as his fingers clamped around the fridge door a quiet knocking made his head snap towards the direction it was coming from. Before he knew what he was doing he found him himself scrambling towards the noise, settling his hand on the door handle and revealing the woman on the other side of the threshold.

"Hey," Cuddy offered nervously, her arm dropping back down to her side as if she'd been intending to knock again.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry I'm late…" She'd initially intended to continue and give him an excuse for her tardiness, but in truth she wasn't keen on him knowing she'd spent several hours getting ready, trying on various outfits and then physically backing away from her own front door twice. That information would either hand him ammunition to use against her and/or her indecision would hurt him, neither of which appealed to her.

"I said any time after seven," he shrugged in response, attempting to appear casual when in reality he felt anything but.

"In that case are you going to let me in?"

Nodding his ascent, he stepped back and watched her step into the apartment, inhaling her perfume as she walked past him and fighting the urge to pinch himself. _She'd actually decided to come._

Waiting for him to close the door and turn back, Cuddy held out the bottle of wine she'd brought with her.

"I thought I'd bring this." Taking it from her she watched him scrutinize the label. No doubt, along with everything else he was a wine expert too. "I have no idea if it's any good… One of the donors owns a vineyard in France."

"Because you'd have to be drunk to nail me, right?"

"No!" she protested, instantly concerned that she'd somehow said something wrong.

"Relax! I was joking Cuddy… We both know it's the other way around."

Sticking her tongue into her cheek, she shook her head angrily. She'd half expected this was some kind of ruse to embarrass her.

"If this is all about you playing mind games with me, I'm going home."

Starting to turn away, she felt his palm rest on her upper arm.

"Expecting me to not act like a jerk is like asking me not to breathe." Dropping his hand back by his side, he gulped when she looked up at him seemingly unimpressed. Yet again he'd opened his mouth before thinking. "I'm not playing games with you."

"I didn't come here so you could humiliate me."

Part of him wanted to ask her why she did come, but it hardly seemed like the time.

"I know… I'm not trying to do that. I want you here." Seeing her expression soften, he gestured towards the sofa. "Take a seat and I'll open this and get a couple of glasses." Again Cuddy hesitated and looked towards the exit. "_Please._"

Taking a deep breath she accepted the invitation and began to unfasten her jacket, as he ambled towards the kitchen and set the bottle down on the counter, grabbing the glasses and then reaching into the drawer for the corkscrew. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cuddy throw her coat over the back of the sofa and sit down, one leg crossing over the other as she pulled her black dress down and rested her head on hand appearing to be deep in thought. She always looked great, but tonight she was simply stunning and in truth that him feel both nervous and inadequate. Possible reasons why she would make such an effort _for him_ excited and frightened him in equal measure.

Picking up the full glasses he took them through, gave her one and sat down, careful to leave a conspicuous gap between them. For a long time both of them just stared at the television screen, a palpable awkwardness reflected in their unwillingness to break the silence and their closed body language.

"You eaten?" House finally asked. "I can make a sandwich if you haven't."

"You didn't mention anything about dinner so I grabbed something at home."

Internally he kicked himself. He probably should have made reservations at a restaurant. Cuddy definitely enjoyed being wined and dined, but wouldn't that have complicated matters even more? For a start there was the risk that they'd be seen out together by somebody else who worked at the hospital, and then there was the danger of her misconstruing the intentions of what he'd proposed if he'd invited her out for a meal first. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about pursuing a relationship with her before, because he had. Many, many times. Even though he'd tell anybody who would listen that she was the spawn of Satan, he had to admit, to himself at least, that she was one of the few people on the planet that he actually liked, and that was before he factored in how much he was physically attracted to her. However fear of rejection and a deep-seated dread that their delicate balance would be irretrievably altered prevented him from taking things further: the daily sniping and flirting would have to suffice if it meant maintaining the status quo. And then it hit him: if things panned out as he'd intended they were about to have sex. The butterflies in his stomach suddenly fluttered wildly, making him greedily gulp down the contents of his glass.

Less than a foot away from him, Cuddy drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa and tentatively bit her lip. She felt like she'd been propelled back over twenty years and was on her first date back at high school. It was preposterous! They'd known each other for nearly two decades and yet here they were behaving like a pair of school kids, except was that really any different to how they'd always behaved around each other? Whenever she was around House he always seemed determined to crack away at that professional mask she put on for everyone, but what's more, in spite of her declarations to the contrary, she enjoyed the fact that someone had the gall to challenge her; to chip away at the surface and express an interest in the person beneath the façade. Whether it was intentional or not, he reminded her she was more than just the Dean of her hospital. She knew she was attractive, maybe not classically so, but she'd had enough compliments from former partners and prospective suitors to know that she could hold a guy's attention on both a cerebral and aesthetic level. With House though, it was something different. They'd argue, he'd look at her with his steely gaze, or he'd kiss her like he had a couple of weeks ago and she'd forget that anybody else existed. In those moments everything else melted away.

Growing restless, she set her glass down on the coffee table and hauled herself to her feet, knowing full well his eyes were on her as she meandered to the piano and ran her fingers along the shiny surface, before lowering herself onto the bench and lifting the lid encasing the keys. Cautiously she played a couple of notes and briefly glanced across at him, stifling a grin as he tried to ignore her and continued to watch the TV, even if it was plainly obvious that he was somewhat irritated. House may enjoy quoting Marx when it came to other people's property on occasion, but when someone else laid claim to his things, he wasn't quite so eager to share. In fact she wondered if anybody else had ever played his piano before. Making a feeble attempt to thrash out 'Ode to Joy", she jolted when he cleared his throat above her and interrupted, somehow having made it across the room without her noticing.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm playing the piano."

"No you're not. You're making my ears bleed," he retorted brusquely. Rolling her eyes, Cuddy shifted along the bench and looked on as he sat next to her, dramatically cracked his knuckles and then proceeded to play the first eight bars seamlessly. When he finished he turned and gave her a smug grin. "That's playing."

"Nobody likes a show off House."

"Oh we both know that's not true!" Smiling as she shook her head at his bluster, he changed tack. "Put your hand on mine and I'll show you how to play it properly."

Reticent at first, she did as he asked and mirrored his movements, the contact making the nerve endings buzz where their skin met, even after he stopped and she pulled her hand away.

"I didn't know you could play at all."

"My Mom sent me for lessons when I was eight… She'd read something about musical aptitude going hand-in-hand with academic success, so whilst Julia went to dance class I spent a couple of hours a week being told I was useless by a little, old lady who always smelt faintly of urine."

"Oh I know this one! She fattened you up and then made you get in the oven. Are the Brothers Grimm still on hand to write your biography?"

"I'm glad you find one of the more traumatic parts of my childhood so amusing," she responded with mock seriousness, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"What happened?" House inquired with real interest. He'd collated a lot of information about his boss over the years, but rarely had she talked to him directly about her childhood.

"My teacher died."

"Well is it any wonder when you play like that?"

Narrowing her eyes in annoyance, she hit him playfully on the arm.

"So who taught you to play, smartass?"

"No-one. I taught myself."

"Of course you did," she breathed unsurprised. Sometimes his natural gifts were incredibly infuriating. Everything she had she'd had to work for, whereas he'd been able to more or less coast through his professional life, safe in the knowledge his genius would get him through.

"Music is all math. It's actually pretty easy."

Seeing that he was beginning to lose her, he ran the back of his hand along the length of the keyboard and burst into a jaunty rendition of 'Happy Birthday', much to the chagrin of the woman sat next to him.

"Congratulations on getting so old your birthday cakes are now technically fire hazards."

"Just for the record, if this is you trying to seduce me House, it's not going well," she responded conspiratorially, her tone that of someone who was revealing a secret.

Angling himself so he was facing her, the diagnostician re-lowered the lid over the piano keys and looked her over appreciatively. He'd known her forever, but that didn't lessen the impact of how breathtakingly beautiful she was to him. His heart hammered in his chest and he suddenly realised his throat was dry. It didn't matter if on reflection this perhaps wasn't one of his best ideas, tonight he wanted this. He wanted _her._

"Then I guess I'll have to try harder."

Leaning forward he found himself meeting her halfway, their lips brushing against each other exploratively at first until the kiss intensified, his tongue jostling with hers as he fought the urge to pick her up, lay her on the piano and fuck her there and then. The truth was he wanted her to enjoy this as much as he hoped he was going to, and if that meant exercising a modicum of self-control and christening the new sheets he'd put on the bed that afternoon, then so be it. She wasn't one of the women he paid to facilitate his sexual gratification much less frequently than he led everyone to believe, she mattered. _She mattered. _Just as that thought echoed through his mind, he heard himself groan into her mouth as her hand snaked up the inside of his thigh, and rested painfully close to his burgeoning manhood. Reluctantly he pulled away to examine what she was doing, and then looked up to see the lust in her eyes. If he'd had any doubts that his attraction wasn't reciprocated, they vanished immediately.

"I want my present now," Cuddy whispered, her eyes darting from his to his lips.

Getting to his feet, House held his hand out for her to take and led her through the apartment to the bedroom, all the while his blood thundering through his veins. He'd fantasised about this moment so many times, and now that it was really happening he was having a hard time getting to grips with the fact this wasn't a well-rehearsed daydream he liked to indulge in as he pondered the diagnosis of a patient.

Stopping and turning to face her when they stood beside the bed, he watched Cuddy remove his shirt, revelling in the feeling of her fingertips on his chest, before her hands disappeared behind her back and unzipped her dress, shrugging it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Taking in the sight before him, House's breath caught in the back of his throat. He knew she took care of herself, but stood there in front of him in just her underwear he couldn't stop thinking about how perfect she was. Disarmingly so.

Following the line of his gaze as it swept the length of her, she looked down at herself sheepishly.

"I'm not twenty one anymore."

"You're way hotter now."

"You don't have to flatter me, House. You're definitely going to get laid."

"I'm not. _Seriously,_" he insisted, noting the uncertainty fleeting across her features. "But if it makes you feel better, you still have a huge ass."

Begrudgingly she smiled at him and stepped closer. It was safe to say that anybody who paid as much attention to someone's backside as he did to hers then they were more of a fan than a detractor.

"You love my ass."

"Didn't say, I didn't."

Craning his neck forward he reclaimed her lips and palmed her ass to emphasize his point, reaching behind him and turning off the lamp when she began to unbuckle his belt. Baffled, Cuddy pulled away and regarded him with a frown, realisation finally hitting her when she saw his arm hanging protectively over his thigh. Defiantly she reached behind him and turned the light back on.

"Cuddy...," he warned, a mixture of anger and embarrassment making him focus on a knot in the floorboard his toe was poking at.

"It's me." Cupping his cheek, she forced him to look at her so he could see she meant what she was saying. "I know what your leg looks like and I don't care. You're not hiding it from me. _You don't have to._"

Popping the button on his jeans, she pushed them over his hips and let them slide to the ground, her fingers gently caressing his thigh as her azure eyes burnt into his. Making it clear she wasn't going to back down, she sensed him relaxing and dipped her fingers beneath the elastic on his shorts, allowing them too to fall to the ground and then be kicked out of the way after he'd stepped out of them. Now completely naked he sat down on the bed, pushing the covers out of the way and settled himself against the headboard, looking on in awe as Cuddy removed her bra and panties and stepped out of her heels, before climbing onto the bed and straddling him.

Ghosting delicate pecks along his jawline, she smirked into him.

"This is weird," she confessed, her teeth nipping his ear as he swept her dark curls out of the way and kissed the sensitive skin that joined her neck and shoulder.

"If I said that you'd have slapped me by now."

"I didn't say it was bad," she laughed, enjoying the attention he was starting to lavish on her breasts, and reaching in between them to grip the base of his cock, before sliding her palm up to the tip and repeating the action. Appreciatively House moaned and leant his head back, his eyes closing tightly as he relished the sensation.

"Definitely not bad."

Adjusting herself so she was directly over him, Cuddy sank down and gasped as he entered her, her hands bracing herself against the headboard either side of him as she lowered herself further.

"Ok?" he mumbled, trying to concentrate on anything else but losing control. She felt amazing, but he needed to know she was alright.

"Yeah," she breathed back, her forehead coming to rest against his. "I forgot how big you are."

"No you didn't."

Reaching behind her he ran his digits soothingly down her back.

"There's been a whole lot of water under the bridge since then."

"And yet we both remember everything."

It was second nature for Cuddy to tell House that he was wrong, but in this instance she couldn't and wouldn't. The night they'd spent together back at Michigan was permanently tattooed in her mind and it was pointless negating such a satisfying, and if she was honest, meaningful experience. If it hadn't happened then the man who was currently pleasuring her would almost definitely be a distant memory, and the thought of a House-shaped hole in her life suddenly made her feel incredibly sad. He may drive her mad on a daily basis, but she thrived on the knowledge that her belief in him allowed him to exercise his gift, and because of that thousands of people were still able to live their lives with their loved ones after being deemed 'lost causes' by other doctors. In general their lives were as bound together, as literally as they physically were in that moment.

Slowly she began to move her hips, whilst House gripped her waist and gently teased her nipples with his tongue, delighting in the breathy moans he was soliciting from her. For a long time they settled into a steady rhythm, neither of them eager for it to end until Cuddy's movements became more frantic, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as his hands slipped lower to her ass for greater leverage and his own hips slammed into hers. Inevitably she came, calling his name and providing the stimulus for him to glide over the edge too as she continued to grind against him. Lazily they embraced and Cuddy climbed off him, rolling onto her back and getting under the covers to avoid the chill of the air, as House meanwhile slumped further down into the bed next to her.

For long minutes the only noise was the sound of their breathing returning to normal, both of them staring at the bedroom ceiling thoughtfully.

"I should go home."

"You don't have to."

Turning her head to look at him, she pursed her lips contemplatively.

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"I'm not asking you to move in!" he rebuked, rolling his eyes animatedly. "It's late. What's wrong with two friends sharing a bed?"

"And I suppose you and Wilson do this all of the time?"

"Absolutely! We always make sure to leave time for special cuddles too," House cracked, drawing giggles from the woman next to him. "If it makes you feel better I'll draw a line down the centre of the bed. If I cross the border you can use that shotgun you carry around in your purse." With a deep intake of breath Cuddy relented and rolled back towards him, planting her head on his shoulder and moulding her legs around his. "Aaaand welcome to Mexico!"

"Can't let Wilson have all the fun, can I?"

In response House wrapped his arm her waist and kissed her forehead, feeling strangely content. He had no idea what he'd expected to have happened after they'd had sex, but with this he was more than happy. It seemed almost oddly 'domestic', something which generally sent him running for the hills, and yet here he was, snuggling into his boss and oldest friend without a care in the World. Perhaps he should be panicking. There would no doubt be consequences, but right now he was fully prepared to live in the moment and flip the bird to whatever tomorrow held.

Pinching her ass to get her attention, he looked at her and grinned.

"At least Wilson doesn't have cold feet."

* * *

Stifling a yawn with one hand, Cuddy wandered over to his bookcase and drank a sip of the coffee she'd just made. A few minutes earlier she'd woken up in a strange bed with a warm body lying next to her breathing softly, and then remembering the night before her first instinct was to panic. _She'd slept with House._ Not only that, but she'd spent the night with him. In the cold, harsh light of day the temptation was to run; to leave his apartment and pretend this had never happened. How could she have been stupid enough to leave herself open to the inevitable ridicule he'd fire at her in the upcoming weeks? She'd fallen for the trick and now she was going to have to face the consequences, because this had to be about him gaining some sort of power over her, didn't it? He'd never denied that was how he operated, and yet she'd always seen something more in him: something decent. If she hadn't she wouldn't have put herself on the line for him time and time again.

Taking a deep breath, she'd looked at him as he laid on his stomach and snored quietly. He'd been nice to her the night before, tender even when they'd had sex, and before they'd both drifted off to sleep they'd chatted and laughed about college. It felt good to be able to share his company and not have to put the barriers up for fear of him spotting a chink in her armour. Ever since he'd turned up on her doorstep the day the adoption had fallen through and kissed her, there'd been a shift in their relationship. Maybe even before that, when Amber died and Wilson had backed away from him. The whole purpose of last night was to get things back to normal, but in reality she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted. If she ran there was a good chance she'd never know.

Now she found herself perusing the various tomes, textbooks and medical journals in a multitude of languages that adorned his shelves. Adjusting a book that was facing the wrong way around, she frowned when she saw the title and the name on the spine, just as a creaking floorboard alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone.

"How did you get hold of a copy of my Great-Grandfather's book?"

"Found it in a bookstore a few years ago," House answered sleepily, scratching his bare chest and unashamedly looking her up and down. "Why are you wearing my shirt?"

"I needed coffee. It was the first thing I could find to put on."

Tutting like a disappointed school teacher, he smiled at her matter-of-factly and glanced at her naked legs, making a familiar warmth spread to her core.

"Unacceptable I'm afraid. Stealing is a serious offence in New Jersey. You're gonna have to take it off."

"Because you've never 'borrowed' anything of mine before, have you?"

"Not your clothes…. Well, not to wear anyway."

Cuddy grimaced. If she'd needed confirmation that he'd stolen her underwear the time he'd gone into her home to investigate a case, there it was. Regardless, she knew he was indirectly pressing for a repeat performance of last night, and that wasn't going to happen. Certainly not now anyway. She was going to finish her coffee, ask if she could shower, get dressed, go home and get her bearings.

"House, I need to go home. I've got a presentation to plan for tomorrow."

"Boring! Lose the shirt and I promise you'll have way more fun here."

"I can't," she dismissed, draining the contents of her cup and placing it down on the side. "Some of us have responsibilities that we take seriously."

"You can run that hospital blindfolded. Screw your responsibilities!" The forcefulness in his voice startled her, as did underlying hurt in his eyes. "You used to know how to enjoy yourself."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Cuddy spat back, folding her arms across herself as she became increasingly self-conscious about her attire. If this was developing into an argument it wasn't exactly going to be easy for her to make a dignified exit. "Last night was meant to be a one-time thing. _We agreed. _Us working and sleeping together isn't practical… In fact it's insane!" Running a hand through her hair, she grunted with frustration. "I'm not saying it wasn't nice…"

"Nice?... Wow, Cuddy! You really know how to make a guy feel special."

Noticing him rub his thigh, she watched as he limped to the side table, grabbed his orange pill bottle, and dry swallowed some of the contents, before placing it back down.

"What do you want from me?" she inquired, her tone softening. She really didn't have the stomach to shout at him when she knew he was in pain.

Meeting her gaze he stared back, appearing to be considering his answer for what seemed like an eternity.

"I _really _enjoyed last night and I'm not going to lie about wanting it to happen again, but if you don't want to stay here, then fine…" He shrugged to emphasise his point. "I'm a big boy, and I'm not about to push you into anything." He paused and regarded her almost mournfully. "Everything you do is determined by what other people think of you. For once, do something you want to do, rather than what you think you should."

Straight away she opened her mouth to respond, however the words weren't forthcoming. What was she supposed to say? That he was wrong? That he was saying it out of spite? She couldn't because it wasn't true in either case. If it was possible to love and hate someone simultaneously for seeing you as you really are, he was the almost certainly the living embodiment of it for her. Strangely she almost felt relieved.

With nowhere left to hide, Cuddy slowly began to unbutton the shirt because _she _wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

_A big thank you to everybody who read and reviewed the last chapter. I was a bit worried that the premise for the story might not quite work, but you guys seem to be on-board. Your words of encouragement are awesome!_

_One thing that really occurred to me whilst writing this is that one of the many mistakes the writers made was throwing these two into full-blown relationship straight away. They basically took their finger off the trigger for too long, and then when they did press it they ended up firing blanks. It's just a shame really. So many ways they could have broached it, but they ended up taking the most forced route. _

_The characters aren't mine sadly._

* * *

"Watch my lips. You are not randomly drilling into your patient's head."

"Why not?" House countered stubbornly, as he stood in front of Cuddy's desk flanked by Taub and Kutner, who were sheepishly staring at the carpet. "It'll relieve the pressure from the tumour straight away."

"You're not sure that's the cause of the blindness. You're not even sure there is a tumour… Do the goddamn MRI!"

"Cuddy's got a point. I mean it could be dangerous." Kutner said quietly, still barely making eye contact with either of them. Being dragged along to get the go-ahead for a procedure always felt like being taken into the principal's office.

With a sigh House rounded on him, the annoyance plain to see on his features.

"You're supposed to be on my side… Not cool, man. _Not cool._"

"I think when the fellow whose been known set fire to our patients tells you that something is dangerous, you have to take a step back and think about your actions, House." Cockily Cuddy sat back in her chair and folded her arms, her eyebrows raised as if issuing a challenge. "Stop wasting everybody's time and go and do your job. _Properly_."

Taking a step forward the diagnostician laid his palms flat on her desk, and scrutinized her face the same way he'd look for symptoms on a patient. It still felt surreal that a little over twenty four hours previously he'd kissed those lips and heard a plethora of curse words trip off her tongue. In and out of work, the woman in front of him was always prepared to demand what she wanted.

"So who is he?"

"Who's who?"

"The guy who's buttering your muffin." Amused by the confused look on her face, the corners of his mouth flicked upwards into a knowing smile. To the side of him he heard Taub shuffling his feet uncomfortably against the floor and almost laughed out loud. Sometimes this was too easy. "You think nobody noticed the bounce in your step and the push up bra?"

Looking down at her chest briefly, Cuddy met his eyes again and gave him a warning glare.

"My personal life is none of your concern."

Clearing his throat, Taub wrung his hands agitatedly.

"Can I just say that I have no interest in who you're sleeping with."

"Me too," Kutner added.

Ignoring the ducklings' reluctance to play along, House pressed on.

"I don't care that _you're_ having sex with somebody. I just want to know who he is so I can notify his family and get them to stage an intervention before you get to the ritual sacrifice part of the relationship."

Smugly he bit his lip as he watched the anger etched on her face simmering just below the surface.

"Should we go and do that MRI now?" Taub asked cautiously, equally aware that Cuddy was about to blow her top and eager to get out of the room.

"Yes!" their boss spat back, not even bothering to look at him as he and his colleague began to scuttle out of her office. It would be better if they didn't have to watch the disembowelment.

"If I'm not back within twelve hours, tell Wilson I loved his porn collection," House called after them, craning his head back momentarily before refocusing his attention on the furious person in front of him. Now that they were alone, internally he began a countdown; three… two… one…

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cuddy said evenly, her hushed tones no real indicator of how angry she really was. She had no intention of airing her dirty laundry in public and these walls seemed to have ears, especially when it came to her and House.

Blowing the air out from his lungs, he slumped down onto the chair and shook his head at her.

"Your problem is you have no imagination… Well, when it comes to things like this anyway."

"Meaning?" she inquired, disregarding the innuendo for the time being. He was exasperating when he was this obtuse.

"Meaning you don't want anybody else to know that we spent a lot of the weekend having incredible sex, and now that's the last thing anybody is going to think happened."

"And you don't think people might not have considered the fact I slept with anybody if you hadn't brought it up?"

Patronisingly he leaned his head to the side and clasped his hands together over the top of his cane.

"Well maybe not if you hadn't been walking around the hospital with that ridiculous grin on your face….Wilson's already asked me if you're seeing anybody."

Pausing to consider what he'd said, Cuddy frowned. She'd had no idea she was walking around the place with a 'ridiculous grin', but come to think of it a few of the nurses had looked at her rather oddly.

"And what did you say?"

"I said I'd find a way to come and suss you out."

"You had no intention of drilling into your patient's skull did you?" she responded, suddenly realising what all of this was about.

"Nope. I'm a jerk, not an idiot." He shrugged his shoulders. "For it to work I needed a couple of witnesses. Despite their feeble denials Taub and Kutner are the biggest girly gossips in Princeton."

"So now they're going to be going around discussing my love life. How exactly is that a good thing?"

"It'll be old news in a couple of days. If people found out about us, it wouldn't be."

Planting her elbows in front of her, Cuddy rested her head on her hand resignedly. As much as she wanted to contradict him she knew he was right. There'd been rumours circulating about her and House for years, and if they finally turned out to be true she knew, at the very least, it could jeopardise her professional integrity.

"I'm not happy about _this_ infringing on our working relationship."

"Oh Jesus, Cuddy! Nobody died… It's not as if we didn't enjoy ourselves."

"That's beside the point."

"Is it?"

Feeling the blush creep up to her cheeks, she found herself dropping her gaze to the papers on her desk, as a subtle smile lit up her face. Truthfully she hadn't enjoyed herself that much for a long, long time and that wasn't just down to the sex, which admittedly had been great. She'd had fun spending time with someone who didn't take themselves completely seriously, especially when she didn't feel obliged to criticize him for exactly that. Finally forcing herself to go home to her own empty house had been difficult, as was attempting to concentrate on anything that didn't involve daydreaming about his hands all over her body. That particularly wasn't proving too easy a day later either.

"Go and do what you're supposed to be doing."

"Fine," he assented without the usual histrionics, rising to his feet again and obviously about to leave when he appeared to have second thoughts. "By the way…"

"What?" Cuddy breathed, preparing herself for the inevitable snide comment.

"I was just going to say that you look nice today."

"Nice?... Not like an Afghani prostitute or a Parisian brothel owner then?"

He shook his head.

"No. Nice." Smiling he looked her up and down. "Although now you mention it…"

"Go!"

Seeing his smile turn into a smirk, Cuddy watched as he turned his back on her and walked out of the room, the grin she'd been wearing involuntarily for most of the day returning with a vengeance.

* * *

Noticing Cuddy heading out of her office when the elevator doors opened, House ambled as swiftly as he could across the hospital foyer reaching her just as she was about to exit the building. Sensing him behind her she allowed him to hold open the glass door as she stepped out into the coldness of the early evening air and waited for him to follow suit, turning around to face him when she was satisfied they were out of the way.

"Did you want something?"

"My place or yours?" he replied without missing a beat, mischief evident in the creasing of his eyes.

Normally she'd roll her eyes and be on her way. That was what the sensible voice in her head was telling her to do, but she found herself wanting to play along. Feeling the cold biting at her neck, she pulled her scarf from her bag and began to put it on, knowing full well he was watching her every move.

"Can't keep away, huh?"

"What if I can't?"

Stunned by the how sincere his words sounded, Cuddy drew her attention away from her scarf and looked up at him, finding his blue eyes staring intently at her. He sure looked like he was being serious too. For what seemed to her like an age she fumbled for a response, mesmerised by the vapour from his breath billowing from his mouth and up into the air. In that moment all she could think about was kissing him.

"Wait a few minutes and then follow me home. I'll leave the door open." Glancing over his shoulder she caught sight of a familiar face and dropped her voice to mumble Wilson's name, before abruptly walking away.

"What was that about?" the oncologist inquired, stopping next to his friend and following his line of vision as he watched Cuddy round the corner of the building to head to the car park.

"Usual." He was trying to sound as casual as possible, but inside he felt anything but. He'd expected her to turn him down, yet she hadn't. The last thing he wanted right now was an interrogation. "Do your paperwork. Don't kill the patients."

"Is she seeing somebody, then?"

"I don't know… Probably. Surprisingly she's not keen on me knowing whose pole she's greasing."

"And you're alright with that?" Wilson asked, the concern and scepticism seeping into his tone in equal measure.

In that second House wanted to end the pretence. He wanted to tell his best friend that he and their boss had spent a good bulk of the weekend having awesome sex, talking without fighting and then having even more awesome sex. In fact he wanted to scream that from the rooftops, but what would it achieve? Whatever was going on between them wasn't going to last, and it would be even more short-lived if Wilson, the master meddler, began offering relationship advice.

"She's over the age of consent. She can do what or whoever she likes."

Seeming to accept his concession, Wilson sighed and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Instantly recognising the offer of some sort of distraction on the horizon, House felt a slight pang of guilt. Regardless though, he had to make a plausible excuse, otherwise it would be hard to shake him off.

"A hooker…" The diagnostician paused a moment and imagined Cuddy's fist connecting with his face if she'd just heard him say that. Unexpectedly he, himself, felt some revulsion at the inference that the women he paid for sex and she were at all comparable, but he knew this was the only way he could guarantee there wouldn't be a knock at the door of his empty apartment later on. "I mean we could go Dutch."

Instantaneously Wilson's hands flew up into the space between them.

"I'm good, thanks," he said curtly, barely hiding his distaste at the very suggestion.

"Well, if you're sure?"

"Positive," the oncologist retorted emphatically, starting to beat a hasty retreat. "Anyway I'll leave you to it. Enjoy… You know… Your evening."

"Pretty sure I'm going to."

* * *

Stepping into Cuddy's hallway without knocking felt strange for House. On countless occasions he'd stood on her doorstep, often in the early hours of the morning, and banged on her door with his cane until she'd finally answered, generally greeting him with a perturbed scowl. For any other 'friends' such a small gesture as allowing him to let himself into her home wouldn't be a big deal, but that wasn't the case for them. For years she'd fiercely protected her private space from his prying, and with good reason. Boundaries for him were always meant to be crossed, even if it upset or hurt the person who'd set them. Now that she'd invited him in, he felt nervous. This was new territory for them.

Going past the empty living room he followed the light and walked down the corridor into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway when he saw Cuddy rinsing something at the sink.

"I thought you'd decided not to come," she said evenly without turning around. She'd never needed to see him to know when he'd entered a room, she'd always been able to sense it.

"I stopped off to get this." Placing the bowl she'd washed on the drainer, she turned and saw the bottle of wine in his hand. "I figured I owed you one."

"If you drink, you can't ride back home."

"I'll get a cab."

Hesitating with her response, Cuddy folded her arms across herself defensively. House stood in her kitchen holding a bottle of wine seemed oddly domestic and completely incongruous.

"Or you could spend the night."

"On a school night?" he queried cheekily, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"If you want."

Hanging his cane on the counter, he regarded her tentatively.

"You should probably know I told Wilson I was going to be with a hooker tonight, so we can get the bit where you kick my ass and throw me out over and done with." Seeing her grip herself more tightly, he set the bottle down on the counter. From a selfish viewpoint he should have kept his mouth shut, but then what? Wait for Wilson to tell her what he'd told him? She deserved a little bit of honesty, even if that meant he'd end up being kicked out, and a line being drawn under whatever the hell this was going on between them. "I know where the door is."

Just as he was about to spin round to leave, Cuddy finally spoke up.

"It's ok."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course I mind, but I understand why you've told him that…" Shifting her feet awkwardly on the spot, she stretched her arms out behind her and looked him square in the eye. "I don't like lying to him though."

"So you think we should tell him?"

She shook her head.

"No," she said quietly, stopping herself short of adding, "Not yet."

There was no guarantee that this 'thing' between them was going to last past tonight, and what good would it do throwing Wilson into the mix. She knew he'd push for them to get into a proper relationship, he had after he'd found out that they'd kissed, but she couldn't be sure if that was what she really wanted. House was intelligent, sexy and had held her attention from the day she'd met him, however nobody else had ever made her shed as many tears as he had. Knowing her so well, he knew exactly what to say and do to hurt her and that was a frightening prospect. If they kept this casual and complication-free, chances were the fallout wouldn't turn into an ugly mess that affected their professional and personal lives.

"Ok," he agreed, closing the gap between them and resting his hands on the counter behind her so he was looking down at her face as she smiled back at him.

It was at times like these he remembered how small she was in comparison. He'd noticed it the night he'd come there to commiserate her on losing Joy too. At work the façade of professionalism was much akin to that of the trickery of the Wizard of Oz: she puffed herself up to seem bigger than she actually was because that was what her job required of her, but in reality she was hiding behind the curtain with all the same vulnerabilities that plagued everybody else. Sometimes he saw himself in her,- the pain, the uncertainty, and in that moment he felt ashamed of all the times he'd gone too far, thinking she could take whatever nastiness he dished out without it upsetting her. The dangerous thing about Cuddy was that she unconsciously made him take a long, hard look in the mirror, even if that meant facing the foul ogre he thought he was deep down.

"I made us something to eat… It's just gone in the oven so it'll be a while yet."

With a glint in his eye, he smirked at her.

"Then we'll have to think of something to do to pass the time."

Leaning down he kissed her hungrily thinking how long it'd seemed since he'd last been able to claim her mouth like this. Today had been pure torture: seeing her and not being able to touch had felt like being trapped in a cell next to a dripping tap when you dying of thirst. Sure there'd always been an element of that between them, but having her again after all these years had made him unapologetically greedy.

Frowning when she pulled away from him, House followed her silent cue and took her hand obediently, following her as she led him through the archway and into the dining room until he dug his heels in and refused to go any further. Shrugging his jacket of his shoulders, he lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the table, straight away starting to unbutton her blouse.

"Here?" she asked, her confusion plain to see.

"Here."

Dipping his head, he began to kiss her neck.

"But…"

"Shut up," he murmured into her skin, instantly regretting it when he felt a finger under his chin that brought his face level with hers. From her expression she evidently didn't take too kindly to being spoken to like that.

"Shut up yourself."

Like an innocent schoolboy he beamed at her angelically.

"Anybody ever tell you how hot you are when you're pissed?"

Watching her unable to stifle a giggle, House took the opportunity to bunch her skirt up above her hips and then snake his fingers up the inside of her thigh.

"Once or twice," Cuddy practically moaned, sucking her bottom lip as she concentrated on the feeling of him pushing her panties aside and thrusting two of his fingers inside her. Instinctively she reached out and began palming him though his jeans, cursing when his thumb started to tease her clit. Slowly but surely he was driving her insane.

"I've been thinking about doing this all day."

"So have I," she confessed, startled by the loss of contact when he stepped away. Without making a sound she watched him pull off her panties and drop his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion, almost surprised by how graceful he could be with his movements when his mind was full focused on something else other than his leg. Lying back when he stepped in between her legs again, she keened when he entered her and closed her eyes fleetingly, soon opening them again to find him hovering over her, his elbows planted either side of her as he gazed at her in a way that made the air catch in her throat.

"You're beautiful," he said softly, brushing her hair away from her face.

Taken by surprise by the tenderness in his voice and actions, she cupped his cheek and smiled.

"You're not so bad yourself."

Ghosting kisses along her neck and shoulder House glided in and out of her, beginning a rhythm that made her eyes roll back into her head and her hips arch into him, as she dropped her shoes to the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist. Simultaneously, in the odd seconds where their minds wandered from the immediacy of their joining, they both realised this wasn't just about sex. Emotionless, disconnected sex didn't feel like this. _This_ was scary, incredible and whole many other things in between, but it was definitely the expression of something, rather than its focus.

Feeling herself creep towards the precipice, Cuddy dug her heels further into his back and let go, pulling him over the edge with her.

Reluctant to move, but conscious that he was in danger of hurting her if his leg gave way, House detangled himself from her and readjusted his clothing, stumbling backwards and sitting down on the floor to alleviate the burning pain in his thigh. Resting his head back against the sideboard, he watched as she sat up and hopped off the table, finding her panties on the floor and putting them back on and then re-buttoning her blouse, before slumping down next to him. Without saying a word she threaded her fingers through his, and soothingly ran her thumb along the inside of his palm.

For a few minutes they sat in a comfortable silence, both of them simply enjoying the closeness. Eventually House opened his mouth.

"Stop taking your birth control."

The sentence hung in the air for a second as she tried to comprehend what he was actually saying.

"Why?"

"Well seen as I'm fairly sure you know how human reproduction works, do you want me spell it out for you?"

She paused, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. He was obviously toying with her.

"If this is some kind of a joke, it's not funny."

"I'm serious…" he replied, refusing to let go of her hand when she went to pull away. "You want a baby and I can give you one."

She shook her head.

"_No_."

"Why not?" he pressed, the lines on his forehead furrowing deeply, as he watched her try to mentally back away from the conversation.

"Because I've finally accepted that that isn't going to happen for me... I'm happy as I am."

"Oh bullshit, Cuddy! No you're not… You just gave up."

"Well maybe if you'd lost the number of babies I have, then you'd have an iota of an idea why I can't put myself through that again," she snapped, getting onto her knees and about to stand up when she felt his hand clasp around her wrist.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back, and he was. Not just for dismissing what she'd been through, but that she'd had to go through it in the first place. All the times he'd told her she'd be bad Mom must have seemed like having a knife being twisted into her back, and his behaviour made him feel ill. Once he'd thought her wanting to be a mother was just a whim, something she'd get over in time, but now he saw it was as tangible a loss as the chunk of muscle missing from his thigh. She'd grieved each miscarriage and then the adoption falling through in much the same way he'd lamented the pain-free life he used to have.

Sitting back again Cuddy lay her head on his shoulder. She felt strangely relieved that she was finally talking about this with someone. She'd tried to broach it with her sister, but the words never came. How could she discuss the gaping hole in her life with someone who'd so easily become a Mother on three occasions? No matter how much she loved Julia she couldn't help but feel jealous, and that rendered her incapable of opening up to her.

"I nearly asked you before."

"I know." Glancing down he saw her bafflement, and clarified what he'd suspected. " A couple of years ago. When you came to thank me for helping you with the injections. It didn't make sense you'd come all the way to my office to just say that."

With a sigh, she pondered what would have happened if she had asked back then. Was it the fear of him saying no that had prevented her asking in the first place? She wasn't sure.

"Even if I managed to get pregnant and have the baby, how would it even work? You don't want kids."

"It'd be your baby."

"So you wouldn't want any contact?"

House paused to think about her question, and absently-mindedly rubbed his hand along his scar.

"I'd be curious to see what they were like. I suppose I wouldn't mind them knowing I was their biological father either… But the diapers, the vomit and the decision-making would be all yours..." Slowly she heard him expel the air from his lungs, almost mournfully. "I'm not exactly Daddy material."

Desperately she wanted to contradict him, but the truth was the instability of his lifestyle wasn't conducive to bringing up a child. Perhaps more important than that, she didn't think becoming a hands-on parent was even on his radar, and nobody should be forced into that if they didn't want it.

"What about us?" Cuddy ventured, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"We'd keep working together and stay friends, but I'd back off."

With her eyes sweeping around the dining room in an attempt to stop the tears she was holding back from falling, she felt her stomach drop.

"People would know."

"Do you really care?" House countered, the tiniest hint of annoyance in his tone. "It wouldn't be anybody else's business."

Silently she shook her head. Honestly she didn't. The people who worked for her gossiped about her all the time anyway. Of that she was certain. But at the end of the day, if she had a baby to show for it all she couldn't care less.

Lifting her head, Cuddy looked him directly in the eye.

"Why would you do this for me?"

Nervously he looked away and drew shapes in the pile of the carpet.

"Because you've scraped my ass off the floor more times than anybody should reasonably expect to have their ass scraped off the floor… It's the one thing I can do that goes any way towards making up for that." Gradually the corner of his mouth ticked upwards into a lop-sided smiling. "That _and _the hot sex with my boss."

Rolling her eyes cheerfully at him, she took a deep breath. This was a lot to process.

"I need time to think."

"Sure," he said with a shrug, wondering what she was doing as she got to her feet and held her hand out for him to take, which he duly did. "Where are we going?"

"I need a shower before dinner. I thought you might want one too."

"At the same time?" he quizzed, the mere thought something that he was clearly in favour of.

"Well it's a pretty big shower and I'm all for saving water, House."

Not waiting for a response, she turned and pulled him along behind her, biting back a knowing laugh when she felt his hand on her ass.


	3. Chapter 3

_Massive thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, favourited and alerted this week. You guys put a smile on my face._

_So here's where things start to get a little crazy… My 'Fic Pimp' set down certain criteria for this story, and who was I not to oblige? (To be honest she's frightening. I just write what I'm told.) Anyway blame her for the turn of events here…_

_Let me know what you think._

_I don't own them, but I sure do wish I had David Shore's bank balance._

* * *

Striding down the darkened corridor, Cuddy passed one of the cleaners and nodded politely, her thoughts entirely elsewhere. Reaching House's office, she sighed when she saw the lights were off and almost turned back when she caught sight of a pair of legs lounging on the foot rest. Thankfully he kept as bad hours at work as she did. Pushing the glass door open she stepped inside and leaned back against it, looking on as House seemingly ignored her, his attention instead focusing on the dime he was gliding backwards and forwards between his knuckles.

"Any particular reason why you're stood in my office?" he eventually asked, making her start slightly.

"Technically it's my office."

"In that case, I'll leave you and your office to it."

Swinging his legs off the rest, House got to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and then limped to the desk to pick up his rucksack.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks."

"No, Cuddy. I've spent years avoiding you and your constant nagging. No need for you to feel special now."

"You're mad at me because of Rachel," she retorted, pressing her palms flat against the glass behind her.

He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He was. As soon as he knew the maternal and paternal families hadn't wanted anything to do with the baby, he realised Cuddy would want to adopt the little girl. She'd diagnosed the Eclampsia in the Mother, found her in the abandoned house and as a result she'd already felt responsible for her. He should have felt happy for her, and a tiny part of him did, but the rest of him selfishly felt like he'd lost her for good.

Even before then, after the first, second and then the third negative pregnancy test, he'd sensed her gradually backing away and the barriers sliding up between them again. Excuses would be made more often than they used to be if he asked her if he was seeing her that night. He knew it was self-preservation; a means of her preparing herself for facing the fact that she just wasn't going to conceive. The more disheartened he saw her getting, the more he wanted to comfort her and tell her it didn't matter, but that wasn't his call. They weren't together. He was just a friend who was doing her a favour in a way that was mutually beneficial. That said, now it seemed like the door had firmly and unfairly been closed in his face no matter how irrational that was. He felt hurt, used even despite the fact he'd been the one who'd proposed the idea in the first place. Regardless of everything that happened in the past few months, they still had to work together and he didn't necessarily want his boss to know how he was feeling. From now on their relationship was going to be strictly professional, and if he had to twist the knife a little to make sure of that then so be it.

"Nope. Just a little cranky I'm having to put my hand in my wallet and pay for sex these days."

He couldn't fail to notice her jaw set and the upset fleet across her eyes. Mission accomplished.

"You know, you can be as nasty as you want, but you're the one who backed away from me."

"Like we agreed, you got a baby and I left you to it," he shrugged casually. "Although I'll be honest. Finding one in a crack den is an unconventional way to become a Mother."

"Rachel needed me!"

"And you didn't need me anymore." Turning away he headed towards the door to the DDX room. "Now if you've finished, I've got a bottle of scotch waiting for me."

"We need to talk," Cuddy responded evenly.

"We've just done that. Now I'm going home."

Reaching for the door, he opened it and stepped through about to let it slam behind him when she spoke again.

"I'm pregnant."

With his feet glued to the spot, for a second House questioned if he'd misheard her, but almost instantly dismissed the idea. Why else would she be so intent on talking to him at gone seven 'o' clock on Friday evening? Momentarily he felt the room close in on him, forcing him to steady himself against the doorframe and take a deep breath, before twisting himself back around as Cuddy moved to his chair and sat down, her head falling into her hands tiredly.

Dropping his bag to the floor he went and perched on the stool in front of her, not having a clue what to say and do except for asking the obvious.

"How long have you known?"

Running her hand through her hair, she tilted her head up to look at him and immediately he noticed the dark circles and her pale complexion that she'd tried to cover up with make-up. This close there was no way she could conceal just how exhausted and forlorn she really was.

"For sure, since lunch… I called in favour and saw one of the Ob/Gyn's at Princeton General."

"How many weeks?"

"About six," she answered, drawing a nod from him. It made sense. He'd last slept with her a couple of days before Rachel had more or less landed on her lap about a month previously. "I thought I was late because I was stressed out juggling work and a baby. The tiredness fit too… Then I started throwing up."

"You should have told me."

"You haven't exactly been the easiest person to pin down recently," Cuddy countered with an ironic snort. "Besides, what was the point until I knew for definite?"

"I could have come with you today."

"That wasn't part of the deal, was it?"

Hearing her address him so coldly, straight away the guilt churned over in the pit of his stomach. If he hadn't been actively ignoring her for the past four weeks he might have noticed something. Symptoms, changes in behaviour that could have indicated she was carrying his baby… _His baby?_ They'd agreed that he'd be little more than a sperm donor, and yet his mind had instantly laid claim to the evolving tadpole in her womb that was currently no bigger than a grain of rice. _Why?_

"I meant as a friend." Falteringly he reached out and clasped her hand, relief surging through him when she didn't pull away. "What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea… I'm barely keeping my head above water with one baby. I'd have to give up work for a while… Then find a way to support two babies under the age of one. That's even if I managed to go full-term." Slowly she closed her eyes and remembered the pain of her three miscarriages. Even if her work, Rachel and being on her own weren't an issue in this situation, she wasn't sure if she could cope with going through with that again. With tears forming in the corners of her eyes, she laughed ironically. "You wait years for one kid to come along, and then…"

The Dean of Medicine finished the sentence with a shrug, unable and unwilling to verbalise the rest of the sentence. As the salty tears fell down her cheeks, she couldn't help but feel like this was the Universe, God or whatever else was in charge mocking her as punishment for thinking she could have whatever she wanted. Weirdly, she was reminded of the story her Dad told her about the time he stole one of her Grandfather's cigarettes when he was fourteen. He'd been chastised by being made to smoke the full packet until his lungs ached and he'd spent most the afternoon with his head down the toilet pan, the moral instilled in him being, 'Careful what you wish for.'

"Are you thinking about a termination?" House inquired with all of the delicacy he could summon, his fingers wrapping tightly around hers.

For a long time she kept quiet, turning her head to look out of the window and watch the flakes on snow dance against the January wind. Looking out into the cold reminded her how numb she'd been for the past few days. At work and at home she'd been going through the motions. Telling someone was a relief, but it had also started the thaw as a dizzying number of emotions raked through her.

"How can I not be?... Most of the time I'm not even sure if I'm enough for Rachel…"

And with that she broke, her vision blurring as floods of tears fell and her body wracked with sobs. Slowly House wrapped his arms around her, and she relaxed into him. She'd missed his arms around her. For someone so unreliable, the times she'd laid in his arms in bed he'd made her feel strangely safe, but it was more than that. She'd missed all of it: the sarcastic digs, the smirks when nobody was looking and the ease with which she fell asleep when he was next to her. She'd kidded herself that their arrangement was a straight-forward exchange of 'resources' between two friends; it had been a front for something else from the start.

"Rachel's fine," he whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"She cries all the time."

"That's what babies do. She's not marked you for special treatment." In spite of her current predicament, Cuddy laughed. "When was the last time you slept properly?"

Pulling away, she thought. Sleep was something she grabbed in short bursts whenever the opportunity came.

"I don't know… Since before I brought Rachel home probably."

"I'll come home with you tonight."

"House I'm really not in the mood for _that_."

"Jesus Christ, Cuddy!" he retorted, his eyes rolling in exasperation. "I'm not trying to get laid..." Blankly she stared back at him. "I'll look after the kid while you go to bed."

"You're joking, right?"

House offering to look after a baby was about as likely as him offering to do extra clinic hours.

"Why? I spend most of my time saving people's lives. Pretty sure I can manage a few diapers for one night."

Sceptically she eyed him, still unsure whether or not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was desperate to get her head down for more than an hour at a time, but this particular horse usually had an ulterior motive.

"And you're ok doing that?"

"Well I've had better Friday nights, but you know…" Nervously he scratched the back of his neck. "If you're going to make a decision as big as this you need to do it with a clear head, and you can't do that if you're so tired you can't think straight."

Wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, she nodded. There was no question he was right. A good night's sleep would help her put things in perspective.

"Thank you," she said quietly, leaning forward, kissing him on the cheek and standing up, suddenly mindful of the time. "I'll go back and send the Nanny home. See you there in about half an hour?"

He nodded silently and watched as she composed herself before leaving the office, the quietness of his sudden solitude pressing heavily on him. No matter what happened in the next few days, he knew one thing for certain: everything had changed in the blink of an eye.

* * *

"Oh my God!" House baulked, pinching the end of his nose. "What do you feed that kid?"

Mildly rattled Cuddy continued to wrap up the soiled diaper and put it into a bag, as Rachel happily kicked her legs on the changing mat.

"She's four weeks old. What do you think I feed her?"

"Whatever it is, when it comes out of the other end it smells worse than gangrene…"

Turning to see the disgusted look on his face, inwardly she couldn't help but be amused. For all of his macho bullshit it was hard to tell which one was the bigger baby, her daughter or the guy who was pushing fifty right and currently swinging a stuffed rabbit by the ears with his free hand. And then a fresh wave of panic set in.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

"For the sixty-seventh time, I'll be fine… As long as I master the art of holding my breath for several minutes at a time."

Reaching for a fresh diaper, Cuddy attended to her daughter and began to slip her limbs back into her sleep suit, pressing the poppers together and then rubbing the little girl's tummy soothingly.

"It's a lot to ask."

"I know," he conceded, his tongue beginning to slot firmly in his cheek. "Funnily enough I've been building up my stamina in the bath by ducking my head under the water…"

"I meant looking after a baby," Cuddy interrupted, rolling her eyes when he smirked at her. If she'd been less tired perhaps she might have been more annoyed with him that he wasn't taking her seriously, but it was hard to summon the energy. Aside from that, he was the one doing her the favour.

Sensing her concern, House sought to reassure her.

"If there's a problem I can come and get you, but there won't be."

Realising he was right, Cuddy nodded. It wasn't as if she was completely abandoning him and Rachel; she'd be in the next room. Besides, even if anything did happen, she was leaving her daughter in the hands of a highly capable doctor. Realistically, the worst case scenario was House sleeping through her cries and being forced to get up herself.

Picking the baby up off the mat, she placed her down in the cot and smiled down at her. Sure she'd had a rocky start with her daughter, but it was little moments like this when she realised she'd done the right thing by adopting her. The trouble was how could she even begin to cope with _two_ small children? Forcing the thought from her mind, she turned back to House.

"She'll wake up for feeds at about eleven and then three." Spinning round she scanned the room, and then pointed to something on top of the bookshelf. "The baby monitor's there."

"Cool."

"There's bottles in the fridge, so you won't have to make them up… Oh and you know the thing about testing the milk on your wrist before you give her it?"

"Yep," the diagnostician nodded, biting his lip. He'd been tempted to ask her if she thought he was a moron, but that wouldn't exactly achieve anything. Cuddy was doing what Cuddy did best, worrying and giving instructions.

"I usually read to her before she goes to sleep…" Immediately she saw the look of consternation on House's face, and knew he was on the verge of mocking her. "I know she doesn't have a clue what I'm saying, but the sound of someone's voice seems to settle her down… I can stay and…"

Pausing as he limped away from, she frowned as he held open the door.

"Go to bed before you pass out!"

Smiling, she meandered wearily towards him and placed a thankful hand on his chest.

"I appreciate this."

"You're welcome," he responded with an equally genuine smile. "Now get lost!"

"Night, then."

"Goodnight, Cuddy."

Just as she stepped over the threshold his hand shot out and grabbed hers, causing her to face him again with a baffled look etched across her features.

"What?"

For what seemed like an age there was an awkward silence between them. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he felt unable to articulate them. Truth be told, he had a pressing urge to kiss her, but then one thing might lead to another and that would defeat the purpose of him being there because neither of them would get any rest. More than that, he'd said he'd back off, but that was easier said than done when you're naturally drawn to someone. With a plethora of conflicting thoughts buzzing through his head, he decided to do what he always did and deflect.

"Which end do I feed again?"

"I'm going," Cuddy chuckled, pulling her hand away and shaking her head amusedly as she walked down the corridor and into her own room.

"Sweet dreams," House whispered more or less to himself, closing the door behind him and then making his way over to the cot.

Staring down at the small child, he absent-mindedly touched each of the shiny moon and stars on her mobile and watched as she turned her attention to them, one of her tiny arms futilely reaching out to reach them. Creasing his brow, from an abstract point of view he knew why parents fawned over their children, but even the thought of expending such amounts of physical and emotional energy on a small human being exhausted him. It wasn't that he particularly hated kids. Generally they were just as annoying as everybody else, but he didn't understand the need to put them on a pedestal either, to the point that they became the spoilt focus of every household. All it did was give them false hope that they would get whatever they wanted when they were older, and that was setting them up for a whole world of disappointment.

And yet the thought of Cuddy carrying a child that biologically was half his kept on niggling at him. Potentially in eight months he could have a son or daughter that was just as tangible as the baby in front of him. For the first time human reproduction was stripped of the cold, hard, scientific facts, and he began to see it as a weird kind of biological alchemy. That he could be half responsible for a human being that one day would walk, talk, laugh and run seemed surreal and more than a little frightening.

With a deep sigh he walked over to the bookcase and eyed the various saccharine tomes with a scowl as a means of distraction, soon deciding none of them were suitable. Grabbing his bag from the hallway he slipped back into the nursery, and pulled the rocking chair up to the cot, before digging out a large book, opening it on a random page and starting to read out loud.

"Adiposis dolorosa, also known as Dercum's disease, is a rare disorder characterised by multiple, painful lipomas…."

* * *

Feeling a hand slowly nudge him awake, House's first reaction was to sit bolt upright when he saw the empty bouncer chair in front of him.

"It's ok, Rachel hasn't escaped. I fed her and put her back down in the nursery." With a smirk Cuddy handed him a mug and slid next to him on the sofa. "Although where you think she was going when she can't even support her own head is beyond me."

Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, he squinted at the clock on the wall and saw it was coming up to half seven. Usually on a weekend he hardly ever saw midday, and he was currently lamenting the much needed comfort of his own bed. The couch wasn't exactly the most forgiving piece of furniture he'd ever slept on and already his thigh was throbbing. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his Vicodin bottle and popped a couple of pills, washing them down with the warm liquid he'd been given and turned to Cuddy to pull a face.

"What the hell is this?!"

"It's ginger tea… You want coffee you'll have to get it elsewhere, because right now I can't even stand the smell."

Realising it was a symptom of her current condition, he let it lie. There were other things that needed to be discussed. Things that he'd sat up thinking about for most of the night, his mind constantly going over various scenarios in a loop.

"You sleep well?" House asked, attempting to teeter around the subject.

Cuddy nodded and tucked her legs under herself, adjusting her dressing gown and taking a sip from her own mug.

"I thought I wouldn't, but as soon as my head hit the pillow… Thanks." Smiling at him warmly, she nudged him gently. "I'd ask you the same question, but I'm fairly sure I already know the answer."

After waking up she'd wandered into the living room and found House and her daughter fast asleep, the television casting light and dark shadows across them as they both snored; a sight that had definitely been up there in her top ten things she'd never expected to see.

"That kid has set gender stereotyping back years. The only thing she'd watch without crying was the shopping channel."

"You mean you were perving on the women selling the stuff?"

"Well, you're the one who doesn't have cable," House said with a cheeky flourish of his hand. "I can only work with the resources you give me."

"When you say 'work with'?" Cuddy inquired, cringing.

"Oh relax woman! Everything the ankle biter was subjected to last night was most definitely suitable for general audiences… I mean I had gas, but so did she. In many ways it was exactly the same as if I'd spent the evening with Wilson… In fact he pulls exactly the same face when I change his diaper."

"Thanks for that mental image, which now I'm never going to be able to shake off."

"Imagine how I feel!" he protested sarcastically, watching her chuckle and enjoying the fact she seemed a little lighter than she had the night before. Clearly the sleep had done her some good. Setting his cup down on the floor, he decided to cut to the chase. "What do you want, Cuddy?"

"I don't know," she responded light-heartedly. "A few more hours in the day, a spa holiday."

His eyes burned into hers, and she looked away. They both knew she was avoiding the subject.

"You know what I mean."

Continuing to avoid his gaze she stared at the copy of Vanity Fair on the coffee table, her stomach churning over and over.

"If things were different then yeah I'd keep it, but I just don't see how that's possible." Tapping her index finger on the handle of her mug, her eyes fell lower still to the floor. "It's hard enough being a single parent with one baby, but with two?... This mess is all my doing. I was irresponsible and I'm going to have to deal with it."

"Pretty sure it wasn't _all _your doing," House insisted, leaning forward so she was forced to look at him. "What if things were different?"

"How?"

"What if we were together? Properly."

Rolling her eyes, Cuddy shook her head at him.

"You don't have to be seen to be doing the right thing, House… I knew what the score was, and nobody's holding a shotgun to your head."

Angrily House ran his hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. For someone so intelligent she was often achingly stupid. He was going to have to spell it out for her.

"Do you honestly think I'd even be considering this if I wasn't in love with you?"

As soon as she heard him say it, her eyes flew open in shock. Only he could hurl a declaration of love at her in that manner.

"You're in love with me?" He nodded and turned away, his leg starting to bob up and down nervously. "I don't know what to say."

"Well generally people reciprocate the sentiment, but if that's not how you feel then…"

Leaving the sentence there was his only option. Suddenly he felt like he'd made a fool of himself and keen to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, he was about to make his excuses when he felt her hand under his chin pulling him to look at her.

"You're a huge pain in the ass, but I've been in love with you for a long time." To emphasise her point she leant further towards him and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, then sat back and watched the grin spread across his face. "But…"

"But what?" he interrupted, his smile turning into a frown.

"You don't want kids, and nobody should be forced into that if it's something they don't want."

"Things change."

"But people don't, right?" Cuddy countered, softly smoothing her thumb over his cheek. He looked crestfallen, but what was the point of ignoring the blatantly obvious? Even if they were in love, they were two people who wanted different things in life, how would that work if they were pulling in opposite directions?

"I never wanted kids, because it just didn't seem likely that I was going to have them… Stacy was never interested, and aside from that the only other serious relationship I've had is with my right hand." Watching her face crinkle at the crude sentiment, he bit his lip and paused for a second. "I thought if you did get pregnant I wouldn't feel anything. I said this baby was going to be yours and I meant it… But that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before the whole thing stopped being hypothetical and started being real… I spent most of last night with all these scenarios going through my head. Thinking about what it'd be like if you got rid of the baby and then regretted it, or if you kept it and ended up with somebody else. I don't think I can deal with either of them." Reaching for her hand, he clasped it and gulped back a lump in his throat. "I think I want you _and_ the baby."

"And what about Rachel? She comes as part of the package too."

He shrugged.

"Last night was ok."

"Last night was a one-off. What happens when she's teething and won't stop screaming at four 'o' clock in the morning? Or when there's two of them crying and neither of us have slept properly for days?... Most days you can't even make it into work on time."

"Things'll change."

"Really?"

"Really," he maintained with some certainty. "Changing a few things is way better than being as miserable as I have been for the past month…" Pausing for a second to scrutinize her, he saw the recognition. Evidently she'd missed him too. "I know this whole thing's messed up, but we've got to at least give this a try."

Seconds ticked by and there was no response, his body tensing as he waited for her to tell him it wouldn't work.

"Ok," she eventually whispered.

"Seriously?"

She nodded.

"Seriously."

"Good, because now I get to do this."

Craning his neck forward, he claimed her mouth possessively and raked his fingers through her hair. He'd missed everything about her: the taste of her lips, the smell of her shampoo and the tiny whimper she made when she got lost in his embrace. She was perfect and now she was finally his.

About to slip his hand in her gown, he frowned when she broke away and placed a finger over his lips. Concern pricking at him when he saw the colour had completely drained from her face.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm gonna be sick," she mumbled, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth as she jumped up and ran to the bathroom.

Not quite sure what else to do, House sighed and tentatively got to his feet to follow her.

She was his responsibility now.


	4. Chapter 4

_Once again you guys have been great reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting this thing. Many, many thanks. Keep it up!_

_I know some people may have thought Cuddy seriously considering an abortion was OOC, and I totally get why. For a while I wondered if it was too, but then I thought about the situation I'd thrown her into and I genuinely think most women would be considering it with a small baby, a job like hers and the fact she thought she was going to have to do it on her own. Aside from that, it's in Cuddy's nature to want to do things perfectly, and if she didn't feel she could provide the care two babies needed then I think, for the time being, she would really see a termination as her best option. Whether she would go through with it is a different matter entirely…_

_Major angst warning! Things start well and gradually get worse here, but bear with me. I have a plan! _

_I don't own them. I'm just tinkering around._

* * *

Carrying the empty dessert bowls, Cuddy had just placed them down on the counter when a pair of hands span her round and a figure loomed over her, his fingers making a show of meandering down to grip her ass as his lips found her neck and kissed her teasingly there.

"House!" she rebuked in hushed tones, not wanting to alert the dinner guests.

"Oh come on!" He continued his assault on her neck, moving along to her shoulder blade and enjoying the fact he knew he was probably getting to her by now. "Tell me a little part of you isn't getting a buzz out of making out while our parents are in the next room."

Forcing his head away from her, she saw his disappointed frown and kissed his cheek chastely. Since she'd told him about the baby he'd been surprisingly attentive, and not just in the bedroom. For the past six weeks since they'd gone public with their relationship, he'd made a real effort to see that she was ok and even attempt to get to work on time. Of course it didn't always work out, but even the fact that he generally made it in before eleven 'o' clock and was almost civil baffled his fellows to the point of insanity. Generally he seemed calmer, more content.

"Oddly enough I'm more concerned about what we're about to tell them."

Seeing the worry etched on her face, House moved one hand around and placed it over her abdomen. The day they'd agreed to give a relationship a try, they'd also agreed to not tell anybody about the baby until she'd had her first proper scan. Never having gone further than a few weeks into a pregnancy, it seemed like the sensible thing to do. Except things didn't quite work out like that. By the following evening House had already blurted it out to a stunned Wilson who was already reeling over the fact they'd finally hooked up, and Cuddy had buckled and rung her sister. Now twelve weeks in, and after seeing their baby's heart beating strongly on the ultrasound the day before, it was finally time to let everybody else know.

"Between my Mom wondering why you're not touching the wine, and your Mom telling you your dress is too tight they'd have to be complete morons not to at least be half way there."

"Is my dress too tight?" she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The clothes in her wardrobe were starting to not fit, and she'd spent a couple of hours deciding on an outfit for the meal before eventually settling on the black dress she was currently wearing.

"Is that even a question?" Unashamedly he let his eyes rake over her body appreciatively, and then rested his gaze on her chest. "Although your boobs are desperate to make an appearance, but that's definitely not a bad thing."

Shaking her head amusedly, she took hold of his hand.

"Come on. Let's go and do this." Pulling him along behind her, they took a couple of steps before he stopped in his tracks. "What's wrong?"

Picking up a bottle of merlot from the wine rack, he looked at her mischievously.

"Your Mom's going to want a top up and with any luck she'll pass out."

In response she bit her lip to stifle a chuckle. If only.

Walking back into the dining room, they found their guests engrossed in a joke Wilson was telling them all, raucous laughter emanating from them when he finally got to the punchline. As the titters died down, Cuddy sat back in her seat and House opened the bottle in his hand, topping Arlene up without asking and then offering more to everybody else, before settling down next to her again.

"So what's your bedside manner like then, House?" Arlene inquired.

"Fabulous! In fact it's so good not only did Cuddy hire me, she also let me impregnate her."

Instantly he felt an elbow in his side, and turned to see the fury in his girlfriend's eyes.

"We were wondering how long it was going to take for you to tell us," Blythe said warmly, smiling at them both.

"And you two think you can cope with two small children?" Cuddy's mother cut in, swirling the liquid in her glass. "Because I was practically suicidal with you and Julia until you were five, and there were _two _years between you girls."

Catching her sister's eye across the table, Cuddy rolled her eyes and Julia mimicked her sympathetically. They'd heard this same spiel so many times.

"Well I guess we're going to find out soon enough, aren't we Mom?"

"So when's the ceremony?" Arlene shot back, glugging at her wine.

Irritatedly House blew the air out of his lungs. Cuddy had warned him that she'd want to know if and when they were getting married, so he was going to be deliberately obtuse.

"The baby's due in September, but as yet we've decided against the whole satanic ritual of sacrificing a goat. We'll let you know if our plans change."

"It's all well and good you making light of this," Arlene countered. "I can understand you maybe not wanting to marry if it was just Rachel involved, but you do realise this child is going to be a bastard if you don't?"

And with that you could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. Seeing his two friends silently seething as they watched the woman adjacent to them drain her glass, Wilson decided to try and diffuse the situation by raising his.

"Congratulations! I couldn't be happier for you guys."

"Absolutely! We're thrilled the kids are going to have another cousin to play with soon," Julia chirped up, speaking for herself and her husband, who was watching the silent stand-off with interest, whilst vaguely nodding his head in agreement with his wife.

Averting her eyes towards the end of the table that was offering them good wishes, Cuddy smiled and thanked them. Meanwhile House didn't take his eyes off Arlene as she helped herself to the wine once more, waiting for her to open her mouth again so he could give her a verbal trouncing. Gauging the confrontational mood he was in, Blythe decided to speak up.

"I'm incredibly happy for the pair of you… I wasn't sure I was ever going to have a grandchild to spoil so this is wonderful news." She hesitated for a second, and leant forward nervously. "But I can see where Arlene is coming from. If you were married it'd be a much stronger foundation for you to bring this little one into the world."

In reply House snorted derisively and drummed his fingers on the table in front of him, the wry smirk on his face worrying both Cuddy and Wilson. If he was pissed before, now he was off the scale.

"Because that worked so well for you didn't it, Mom?... Marriage was just one huge bowl of cherries for you, right?" He raised his eyebrows at her challengingly and seeing her body language indicate she was going to back down, a part of him knew he should leave it there but he couldn't. He finally needed her to know that he knew. "At least this kid will know who their real father is."

Straight away he felt Cuddy's hand on his knee as a warning to calm down, making him suddenly conscious that the other guests were more or less gawping at him. Of course Wilson knew, but still this was hardly the right time for this grievance to be aired.

"Greg… I…" his Mother fumbled, trying to figure out how to respond.

"Excuse me!" House interrupted, getting to his feet and pushing the chair back under the table. "All of a sudden I feel nauseous."

And with that he stormed out of the room, allowing them all to hear him crash the bedroom door behind him as he stepped in there seconds later.

"Well, well, well!" Arlene mumbled under her breath, turning to her daughter who was too concerned about her boyfriend to pay much attention. "Seen as everybody else is spilling the beans tonight, I guess I probably should too, Lisa."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm having the most amazing sex with my Mexican gardener. Have been for months… I'm thinking about moving him in with me."

With a look of horror on her face, Cuddy turned to look at her sister.

"Did you know about this?"

Guiltily Julia looked away and right away she knew she had, probably right from when it first started. Her and their Mom had always been closer, so it wasn't entirely surprising she'd been kept in the dark, but even so. This whole night had turned into a nightmare.

"You can't help who you fall for, Lisa," Arlene muttered drunkenly. "You really can't help it."

* * *

Pushing the bedroom door open, Cuddy stepped inside the room and saw House laid out on the bed, his hands tucked behind his head as he stared at the television screen blankly.

"Everybody's gone."

"Good," he replied evenly, still focused on the images in front of him, but not really processing them.

"You should have come and said bye to your Mom. She travelled all this way."

"Why exactly?"

Taking a deep breath she walked towards the bed, slipped off her shoes and climbed up next to him. For a few minutes neither of them spoke, the only sound emanating from the cowboy film on the television and the rain hitting the window outside.

"I didn't know," Cuddy finally ventured. "About your Dad."

"You mean Colonel Blabbermouth didn't mention it in one of your daily gossip sessions?"

"Wilson and I don't gossip about you."

Twisting his head to look at her, the sarcasm was already plastered all over his face before he spoke.

"Oh please!"

"We don't gossip about you, House," she insisted, the tiniest hint of anger becoming evident in her voice. She was trying to be patient with him, but the fact was he'd bailed on her tonight and she was more than a little annoyed about it. "If we talk about you it's because we're concerned and we care about you."

"You both meddle."

"Oh come on!" she protested, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. "Says the guy who was more familiar with my menstrual cycle than I was… And that was _before_ you were trying to get me pregnant."

Seeing the corner of his mouth tick up into a lop-sided smile, she tentatively leaned in closer to him and placed her head on his shoulder.

"If this is you making the moves on me then you're out of luck. I have a headache."

"I think you're safe." Turning slightly, she snuggled further into him and slung her leg lazily over his. "My Mom's sleeping with her gardener."

"Wow! I'm surprised she can get someone in the same room as her, let alone find someone to…."

"Can we please not go there?" Cuddy interrupted, shivering at the thought. "It's bad enough knowing that Julia didn't think to tell me, without getting into the gory details."

"Maybe they thought you wouldn't approve."

She thought for a moment trying to decide if she did or she didn't. Her Mom was a grown woman who was capable of making her own decisions, but that wasn't what was bothering her.

"It's not that I don't approve. It's just…"

Again she faltered.

"Just what?" House enquired, his eyes meeting hers as he looked down at her.

"She said she loves this guy… I guess that finally means she's moved on from my Dad."

Truth be told she wasn't entirely sure if her Mom had ever really loved him enough to truly describe it as 'moving on'. Sure there was definitely respect for what he provided for her and their two daughters, but the affection always appeared to be one-sided. Often when she was a small child she'd seen him attempt to take Arlene's hand as they strolled down the sidewalk together, and watch as she'd silently chastise him and pull away. Cuddy knew the rejection hurt him a little more each time her Mother did it, so she took to walking in between them and gripping his hand herself, smiling sweetly back at him as he invariably grinned down at her. She'd always been a Daddy's girl.

"It was bound to happen at some point. It's been years since your Dad died, Cuddy… Look on the bright side. At least she wasn't screwing someone else and then trying to pass the kid off as that of her asshole husband."

Not knowing how to react, Cuddy frowned and watched the credits roll on the film they hadn't really been paying attention to, her finger subconsciously drawing circles on his chest.

"Why did you hate your Dad so much?"

Instantly she felt his whole body tense up.

"We just didn't see eye to eye," he responded cagily, his hand reaching down to his bad leg and kneading the area where the muscle was missing. "He was a marine. He thrived on toeing the line and, in case you haven't noticed, I don't."

"You're constantly on my back for playing within the rules, but you don't hate me." Sitting upright she turned to look at him and bit her lip anxiously. "Did he hurt you?"

For a split second she saw his eyes bulge wide open and his jaw slacken, before he composed himself again and looked away. Nevertheless, it was long enough for her to know she'd hit on a raw nerve.

"House, if…" Cuddy started, only to be interrupted by buzzing sound coming from his cell. Picking it up, she watched him flick through his messages and move to the edge of the bed to put his sneakers back on. "What's wrong?"

"Got to go. Patient's about to explode."

"Can't your team deal with that? We need to talk."

"Clearly not," he answered curtly, getting to his feet and bending down to peck her on the cheek. "Besides if don't go and do my SuperDoc thing then my boss will be pissed with me."

With a sigh Cuddy realised he was right. As inconvenient as the timing was, work had to take precedence here.

"Fine," she conceded. "When will you be back?"

He shrugged and hobbled to the door, opening it and turning back to look at her briefly as the light from the hallway silhouetted him and made it hard to see his face properly.

"Depends when my patient stops dying… Don't wait up. I'll probably go back to my apartment afterwards."

"Ok," she said quietly, trying to hide her disappointment. Even if he worked late, since they'd gotten together he'd barely spent a night back there. Now he was evidently retreating back into his own cocoon, because the last thing he wanted to do was talk.

Turning his back on her House shut the door behind himself, grabbed his things and left, leaving Cuddy to flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, her hand instinctively falling to the small bump on her stomach and gently circling her palm over it, as the same thought kept running through her mind over and over.

_How was this going to work if they couldn't even communicate with each other?_

* * *

"Why are we here?" House slurred, blinking to clear his vision as he slumped against the wall outside the entrance to his apartment, and watched Cuddy get on her tiptoes to reach above the door for the spare key.

"You seriously think I'm going to take you back home when you're in this state?"

The look she gave him that accompanied the question could have curdled milk. Without a doubt this wasn't going to be the booty call his drunken mind had half planned when he rang her.

"You're mad at me aren't you?"

"Of course not!" she spat sarcastically, unlocking the door and throwing it open so she could bundle him inside. "Not turning up for work, and then calling me in the middle of the night to come and pick you up from a bar because you're too drunk to ride home is perfectly acceptable."

Managing to get him to the sofa, Cuddy let him drop down and turned on the lamp seeing for the first time the slight bruise on his right cheek, the graze on his knuckles and the stain on his shirt. Either he'd been in a fight, fallen or been sick, or more likely a combination of all three. All in all he was a mess. Her natural instinct was to want to know if he'd hurt himself anywhere else, but that would have to wait for the time being. He'd been distant with her ever since the night they'd told their Moms about the pregnancy a couple of weeks earlier, and now it had escalated into this possibly because of the recent events regarding Kutner's suicide the day before. She needed to know what was going on with him and nip things in the bud before it got worse between them.

Standing above him with her arms folded, she watched him turn back towards the door and then look at her again, somewhat confused.

"Where's the baby?"

"I had to leave Rachel with the neighbour."

"I would have called Wilson, but the last time I did that his girlfriend kind of died."

Sighing out of exasperation, she perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of him and ran fingers through her hair frustratedly.

"Look House, I get that you're upset about Kutner. It was a shock for everybody… Maybe if you'd come to the service today and met his parents…"

"I barely knew him!" he butted in, shaking his head scornfully. "Not everyone gives a crap about every man, woman and child that sets foot through the doors at that hospital. He worked for me. He blew his brains out. End of story… And you really think his parents could have cared less if I spoke to them?"

"Perhaps," Cuddy ventured quietly.

"My God, you're deluded!... Their only son just put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger because he'd rather kill himself than spend another day alive, and you think his boss offering them false platitudes about him is going to make them feel better?" He saw her mouth open to respond, and then close again as if the words failed her, allowing him to go on. "The only people that that ever makes feel better are the ones telling them how wonderful their kid was."

Not knowing how to respond for a second, Cuddy dropped her gaze to look at her feet. It may be a cynical viewpoint, but he was probably right. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Kutner's parents were feeling right now, however the last thing they probably needed or wanted was a stream of well-wishers doling out the usual clichés.

"So if you're not upset about Kutner, then why disappear all day and drink until you can hardly stand up?"

"Because I felt like it," he responded with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

"And you don't care about the difficult position that puts me in when you don't turn up for work?"

House snorted.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take for this to be about you."

"I was worried about you!" Cuddy barked back, finally losing her temper with him properly.

"Bullshit!" He sat further forward on the sofa and leant forward confrontationally. "You were worried about how me not being there would look to everybody else now that we're in a relationship."

In disbelief her mouth dropped open slightly. He really couldn't be further from the truth. She'd tried his cell on numerous occasions and when he was a no-show at the memorial service, her and Wilson had swung by the apartment to see if he was there. When he'd finally called to ask her to pick him up she'd been on the verge of reporting him missing. But what was the point of telling him all that now? His current drunken state had buoyed his stubborn streak, and whatever she said he'd find a way to twist it. It would be better to leave him to it before either one of them said something that couldn't be unsaid.

Putting her hand in her coat pocket she pulled out her car keys, and rose to her feet.

"Think what you like, House." Instantly he responded with a slow, wry chuckle, gluing her to the spot. "What's so funny?"

In no hurry to answer her, he slipped his jacket off his shoulders and threw it over the back of the sofa next to him, only then meeting her eyes as she glared down at him.

"It's just I've had a lot of time to think today... Kind of ironic that I ended up knocking up the bitch who mangled my leg. Interesting case of Stockholm Syndrome don't you think?"

His words felt like a slap in the face. Since his infarction a day hadn't passed where she didn't feel guilty about the pain he was constantly in as a result of the procedure to remove the atrophied muscle in his thigh. But what she'd done, she'd done to save his life. He must have known that.

"Fuck you."

"You already have. In more ways than one, Cuddles," he retorted coldly, his blue eyes burning into hers contemptuously. "Now I'm stuck with you and that brat that nobody else wanted."

Unconsciously Cuddy's jaw tightened. It was one thing to insult her, but another thing entirely to bring her daughter into this.

"I have no idea why I thought this could work with you... You're an irresponsible asshole who shouldn't be in charge of a puppy without supervision, let alone a baby."

"And yet you still dropped your panties for me, and wanted to play happy families."

"You were the one who wanted that!" she countered incredulously. Evidently he had a conveniently short memory.

"And boy, did I make a mistake."

Breaking their eye contact, Cuddy looked towards the window desperately trying to find something to distract herself with. More than anything she wanted to cry. The tears were beginning to prick in the corners of her eyes as she felt everything she thought she knew turn upside down. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and regarded him again, determined to not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he'd just hurt her.

"You know time and time again I've put myself on the line for you, even when almost everybody else was telling me you weren't worth it, you want to know why?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because I saw something that just isn't there." She paused to eye him up and down, in that moment finding it hard to know why she'd allowed herself to fall in love with him. "I was convinced that underneath all the sarcasm and nastiness there was a good man buried somewhere, but you really are the selfish, self-pitying prick that everybody else thinks you are."

"That's cute coming from a desperate, uptight, soul-sucking bitch."

Standing there in front of the man whose baby she was carrying and who now clearly openly despised her, suddenly the whole situation seemed strangely surreal. It was time to cut her losses and run.

"Then you'll be pleased to know you're off the hook. We are beyond done."

Without waiting for him to respond she marched out the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Minutes ticked by as he sat in silence, the sense of foreboding bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he'd screwed up royally, but he was unwilling to give into it, pulling the Vicodin bottle from his jeans' pocket and dry swallowing a couple of the white pills, before hauling himself up and going in search of a bottle whiskey in the kitchen.

Within the hour he'd have passed out on the sofa and started dreaming about a small boy cowering under the sink in a familiar bathroom, a stern voice demanding for him to open the door as he tentatively nursed the painful red marks on his small arm, just waiting. The boy knew what was coming, and so did House because it had happened before.

This was only a fleeting reprieve.


	5. Chapter 5

_Once again you guys have been awesome with your reviews etc. Thanks for sticking with this and letting me know what you think. It's always much appreciated._

_Yes, I kind of want to throttle House too… More angst here, but with a twist. _

_I'm not affiliated with the show. If I was I'd endlessly drop to my knees and scream, "Why?!"_

* * *

Holding out the pizza box towards Wilson, House waited for him to take a piece. Instead he shook his head. He wasn't hungry, especially not for leftovers from God knows when.

"I'm good."

House shrugged and took a large bite of his own piece, placing the box back down on the coffee table, and rubbing his leg through his pyjama bottoms that he'd been wearing all day. He knew he must have looked a mess, but he didn't care. Besides his friend had seen him look way worse on numerous occasions.

"More for me then."

Picking up the two bottles of beer he'd just grabbed from the fridge, he handed one to his friend and kept one for himself, washing down the pepperoni with a swig of the cold liquid as the oncologist picked nervously at the label on his own. There was only one reason why he'd come to see him at his apartment, and clearly he was working himself up to deliver one of his notorious sermons.

"So how come you weren't at work today?"

"I had the most explosive diarrhoea," House chirped back without missing a beat, his eyes staying purposefully glued to the highly strung women screaming at each other on his television screen.

"You seem fine now."

"You say that, but any sort of stressor can bring it on. Self-righteousness especially… You think I should call my team for a differential?"

The man on the sofa next to him sighed angrily.

"I had a long conversation with Cuddy today."

"Of course you did," House muttered under his breath, throwing his crust back in the box. He'd been expecting this post-work visit all day. In fact he could have set his clock by it.

"She's upset about last night."

"She'll get over it."

"Just like that?"

Agitatedly House shuffled around on his seat, still not keen to make eye contact. All day his leg had throbbed more painfully than usual, making it hard for him to get comfortable. Now that coupled with Wilson's ensuing lecture was beginning to feel like pure torture.

"Technically she's the one who dumped me."

"And you blame her? She told me what you said and you're lucky she didn't punch you."

"Is that what you're here to do?" he responded sarcastically, finally turning to see the real consternation on his friend's face. "Ride in on your white steed and defend her honour?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," was his blunt reply. "I just came to my senses. Cuddy. Me. A baby. It was never going to work."

Wilson looked at him incredulously finding it hard to believe what he was hearing. He'd seen his two friends circling each other for years, and was relieved when they'd finally decided to give things a go. Now, apparently, it was all over more or less in the blink of an eye.

"You were happy."

"I was deluded."

"So you decided to drag your _pregnant _girlfriend out in the middle of the night, and insult her until she decides she has no choice but to dump you?"

In the cold, harsh light of relative sobriety it did seem terrible, but his friend wasn't contextualizing what happened properly.

"I didn't intend for things to happen like that."

"You never do, House." Wilson shook his head in disappointment, not surprise. "Things always come crashing down around your ears, but it's nothing to do with you."

In response House scowled back at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Everybody who comes into your life ends up leaving worse off than they were before, and yet it's never your doing," the younger man retorted crabbily. "That's if they get to walk away."

Knowing what that particular dig was referring to, House smiled wryly and downed the rest of his beer, slamming the bottle down on the table in front of him.

"So really this is about you still not forgiving me for what happened with Amber?"

"No… This is about you never learning from your mistakes. You can't just self-destruct yet again and not expect there to be consequences. For you and for everyone else who's unlucky enough to be around you at the time."

"You know Jimmy, you should really think about retraining as a shrink because I already feel cured. Enough for you to leave at least."

"Cut the crap!" Wilson barked back, his arms flying out in front of him to emphasise his point. "Cuddy's smart, beautiful and she was in love with you. " House couldn't help but latch onto the past tense in that sentence, flinching infinitesimally when he heard it and hoping that the man next to him didn't notice. What had she told him? "Anybody in their right mind would be ecstatic that she wanted to settle down with them, but no, you have to screw things up."

"If Cuddy's so great then why don't you have a pop at her? She's that perfect mix of needy and controlling that you love so much."

"You are unbelievable!" The oncologist got to his feet and pulled his jacket back on. "I'm going… I've got a friend who actually needs and deserves my support right now."

"So what's the plan?" House inquired with mock curiosity. "Wait until she cries on your shoulder and then slip your hand down her bra?"

Wilson shrugged nonchalantly. He knew the more he shouted, the less he'd listen so it was necessary to change tactics.

"Even if that was the case, which it's obviously not, why would you care?"

Turning away from him, the diagnostician blinked at the TV screen. He had him there.

"I don't," he eventually replied unconvincingly, inwardly cringing at his own insincerity.

"In which case, you're a paranoid asshole who doesn't want her, but won't let anybody else have her either. You've been sabotaging her dates for years…"

"She dates morons!" House interrupted fervently.

"No kidding!" There was no doubt he was including his best friend in that bracket too, and probably with good reason the older man admitted to himself. "Either sort yourself out, or leave her alone to get on with her life."

"That's going to be pretty hard seen as she's my boss."

"You know exactly what I mean." He paused and placed his hands into his pockets, allowing his tone to soften somewhat before he spoke again. "If you really love her and you think you can make it work, then you get down on your hands and knees and you beg her to forgive you… If not, then back off. Not just for her sake, but for Rachel and that baby too."

House gulped and shifted his gaze up to Wilson, who was looming over him expectantly. He needed time to mull things over on his own.

"You done?"

Thinking it was pointless to stay, the oncologist swore under his breath and left him to it, slamming the door behind him in the same way Cuddy had the night before.

Immediately the noise from the television began to grate on his nerves so he switched it off, momentarily grateful for the silence, but then regretting it. If one of his other senses wasn't stimulated it meant he was forced to look around his apartment, at the array of beer bottles, cereal bowls and clothes that were dotted around so needlessly; an appropriate visual metaphor for the mess in his life at that precise moment.

He tried not to think about the comforting homeliness of Cuddy's house, about how he'd got used to sleeping next to her, or how he hadn't wanted to sleep in his own cold, lonely bed last when he finally came round from his drunken dreams, but he couldn't help it. Earlier he'd scrolled through his contact list and nearly called the agency that supplied the hookers he used to use, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. In fact the notion alone had made him so disgusted with himself, he'd felt sick to his stomach. What good would the temporary distraction do? No matter how tightly he closed his eyes, they still wouldn't be her: the woman he was still very much in love with, who was carrying his child and who, for some inexplicable reason, he'd attacked as if he hated her, which couldn't be further from the truth.

Even if it meant grovelling, he had to at least try to get her back.

* * *

Without bothering to knock, House barged into Cuddy's office and was greeted with two nonplussed responses, neither her nor Wilson willing to fully acknowledge his sudden presence as they sat either side of her desk.

"It's time to check your BP," he announced, holding up the cuff in his hand. In light of her past miscarriages they'd been extra vigilant with her health in the weeks since the pregnancy had been confirmed, monitoring her blood pressure every few days and doing blood work every couple of weeks. This was a means of breaking the ice.

"Wilson's taken care of that, thank you," she responded curtly, glancing at him briefly before turning her attention back to the other man in front of her.

"Is that the only thing he's taken care of?"

Simultaneously the other two sighed at the remark.

"House, if this isn't work-related I'm not interested."

He walked closer to the desk and dumped the cuff down there.

"We need to talk." Turning to look down at Wilson in the chair next to him, he clarified further. "Alone."

Pursing her lips as if she was deciding what to do, she stared him down, making him shift awkwardly on the spot.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" the oncologist inquired out of concern for her. "If you don't want to do this now…"

"I think Cuddy's old enough to make her own decisions," House snapped testily, thoroughly pissed his friend was referring to him in the third person. What went on between them was nothing to do with him.

She nodded.

"It's ok. This isn't going to take long anyway…. Would you mind giving us some space?"

Compliantly, Wilson stood up.

"If you need me for anything…"

"I'll let you know," Cuddy smiled softly, finishing his sentence for him and drawing out a reciprocal smile, all the while the other man smarting at the exchange.

Without even looking at House, Wilson turned on his heel and left the office, leaving the two remaining people there in a charged silence. Slumping down into the now vacant seat, the diagnostician rested his chin on his cane and glanced at the various paperwork spread across the desk. He may of felt like everything had turned upside down, but it was business as usual for her. Superficially at least. Now he finally had her on her own, he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say.

"Well?" she asked, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms defensively.

"I'm sorry."

"Fine."

"What?" His brow furrowed in confusion. He hadn't expected things to be this easy.

"I said, fine."

"So you and me, we're ok?"

"There is no you and me, House. From now onwards our relationship is strictly professional."

The abruptness of her demeanour made his stomach drop. She wasn't mincing her words either.

"But…"

"But nothing," she interrupted forcefully. "If we're going to continue working together then we need to re-establish boundaries, which reminds me, you'll have a written warning by the end of the day for not coming into work yesterday."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," she repeated. "You fail to turn up again without a valid reason, I will fire you. You try to pry into my private life, or make inappropriate comments about me or any other member of staff, I will fire you. And if you think I don't mean it, try me."

To reinforce the fact she wasn't joking, her eyes burned into his challengingly.

"So you'd risk losing your best doctor just to prove a point?"

"This isn't about proving a point. This is about no longer putting up with your unacceptable behaviour, and safeguarding my integrity as the Dean of this hospital… You may be my best doctor, but I'm pretty sure after five years in your shadow Foreman is already itching to take over from you. No doubt Chase would be interested too should your position become vacant… They may not have your experience yet, but they're both damn good doctors. That coupled with the fact I'd be able to divert the small fortune I spend on your lawsuits back into the hospital makes it an enticing prospect from where I'm sitting… Don't force my hand here, because you won't like the outcome."

Processing her diatribe, he bit his lip nervously. He'd always known that it wasn't just his talent that had kept him in a job for all these years. If that were the case he wouldn't have been fired on numerous occasions before she'd offered him the position. Their shared past and her consequent willingness to put up with his 'unconventional methods' had always played a part in his continuing employment. If she was truly done with him on a personal level, he knew he was in trouble.

"This is stupid. We're having a baby."

"No House, you made it perfectly clear how you felt about being stuck with me. This is my baby and I'm doing this on my own." She pulled herself to her feet, gathered a couple of folders and continued. "Now I've got a meeting. You can see yourself out."

Just as she rounded her desk his hand shot out and grabbed hers, preventing her from going any further.

"I love you," he said softly.

Cuddy snorted.

"Love me? You don't even like me!... What was it you called me? A desperate, uptight, soul-sucking bitch?" Out of shame his gaze fell to her feet. "It must be a relief for you that we've broken up."

"It's not... I was drunk. I didn't mean any of it."

She shook her head and laughed wryly.

"I don't believe you… You're just panicking now because being with me made you feel a little less lonely and you got laid regularly. The rest is just guilt, pity and a misplaced sense of obligation." Extracting her hand from his she regarded him, and allowed the distress to properly register on her features for the first time. "I deserve better than that, and so does this baby… My daughter sure as hell doesn't need someone in her life who sees her as an inconvenience either."

"I…," House fumbled, his throat constricting as he tried to speak. On the one occasion he needed his characteristic verbosity, his body was conspiring against him. Even if she was determined they couldn't be together, he couldn't cope with her being nothing more than the woman he worked for. He desperately needed her in his life, even if it meant clutching at straws. "We were friends before."

"I thought we were…" She paused to consider her answer. Despite their ups and downs she'd always thought there was an underlying friendship there, but evidently she'd been wrong. How could there have been if he'd always resented her for her part in the aftermath of his infarction? "We were attracted to each other, and now that's finally out of our systems neither of us have to make it into something it's not. You got what you wanted, and so did I. It's over." Distracting herself by checking the time on her watch, she felt her lip wobble and took a deep breath. She'd shed enough tears the night before last, she had to conserve her energy for the coming months. "I'm late."

And with that she was gone.

* * *

A couple of hours later House was sat with his team in the DDX room, getting nowhere with the diagnosis of their patient, who aside from her kidneys failing, was also beginning to exhibit a rash on her face and hands. Pouring two Vicodin into his palm, he added another and dry swallowed them. If he had to be there then he might as well be high.

"Bladder cancer," Thirteen proposed. "A tumour could be causing an obstruction."

"And somehow we missed that in the MRI?" he asked sarcastically.

"Lupus?" asked Taub cautiously.

"Any _serious_ suggestions?" House spat back, turning away from them grumpily and zoning out to watch the footfall in the corridor. Right now he couldn't care less about the patient, or the idiots he was being forced to work with. All he could think about was Cuddy and the baby, both of which he was expected to distance himself from. To somehow see his ex-girlfriend grow in pregnancy, and not acknowledge the part he'd played seemed impossible. Maybe he should be delighted that he had his freedom back. Not so long ago he might have felt relieved that he wouldn't be tied down to either her or this child for the next eighteen years, and yet he felt strangely bereft. He was in mourning, not only for the child he wouldn't know, but the life he could have had if he hadn't screwed up so spectacularly the other night.

And then he saw something out of the corner of his eye, or rather someone. Observing the familiar gait, the mass of blonde hair and the white coat streaming out behind her as she strode by, he felt a cold chill run from the base of his spine up to his neck when she looked over her shoulder to smile at him, before continuing on down the corridor.

"House!" Taub shouted, pulling him back into the room. From the looks on their faces they'd clearly been trying to get his attention for some time.

"What?"

"Is something wrong?" Foreman asked with a frown.

"Aside from the fact I'm working with a bunch of morons, whilst our patient is on the verge of needing a transplant? No, everything is peachy!"

Collectively his fellows squirmed in their seats.

"We were discussing the possibility of neurological damage," Foreman commented, refocusing them on the matter in hand.

"Fine… You do a lumbar puncture. Tiny and Emo can re-check her apartment for anything that would cause metal poisoning." Standing up he walked to the door and held it open. "I'm off to drink vodka and watch girls dance around poles… For the sake of the patient obviously."

"So you and Cuddy really have split up then?" Taub asked with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer, making Thirteen cringe visibly and Foreman look down at his notes.

Instantly House felt the rage bubbling inside him. Obviously the hospital grapevine had been on overdrive since the other day, in much the same way it had when they'd first gotten together. This time, however, the last thing he wanted was everybody knowing his business.

"Still cheating on your wife?" he retorted, satisfied when he saw the other man's eyes open wide in horror, and then stepped into the corridor.

With purpose he headed to the nearest bathroom, thankful that no-one else was in there, and splashed water on his face as he leaned over one of the sinks. Looking in the mirror he saw his own pale, tired reflection staring back at him, all the while his stomach doing somersaults and his heart thundering in his chest. Bile was creeping up his throat, and he knew he was on the verge of throwing up.

He'd seen Amber.


	6. Chapter 6

_As ever your support for my writing has been overwhelming. Thank you so much everybody who took the time to leave me a review for the last chapter. You're the kick up the backside I need to continue working on this when the lazy part of me would rather be watching bad Christmas movies._

_I quite enjoyed writing this chapter. Not only did it give me the opportunity to delve into some of the 'leg issues' I didn't focus on in my last story, I also got the chance to have Cuddy ask House the one question I always wanted her to in the show…_

_I don't own them. Merely renting._

* * *

Cuddy didn't have to be psychic to know House was responsible for the loud knocking emanating from her front door. Not only was the sound of his cane hitting the wood all too familiar, turning up just as she'd climbed into bed was also part of his annoying modus operandi. Getting up again, she pulled on her gown and answered the door.

"Hi," he said somewhat sheepishly. Behind him the rain poured down in bucket loads, making it hard to see the gaps in between individual raindrops. Going by the way his hair was plastered to his scalp and water was dripping from his ears, it was clear he'd been out in it for some time.

"What do you want, House?"

"We need to talk."

"We already did earlier," she responded abruptly. "I'm just wondering which part of "it's over" you don't understand."

With a heavy sigh he dropped his gaze and stared at the hallway floor.

"Trust me, I got the message loud and clear. This is about work… I just need a minute."

Relenting Cuddy pulled the door further open and allowed him to step in, looking on as he closed it behind him and turned back to face her.

"Well?" she enquired curtly, drawing her gown further around her and folding her arms across herself after she saw his eyes linger on her small bump momentarily.

Unzipping his leather jacket slightly, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out an envelope, then offered it to her.

"I came to give you this."

"What is it?"

Taking it from him her fingertips grazed the back of his damp hand, surprising her just how cold he was. Flipping it over she saw it was addressed to 'Dr Lisa Cuddy' and frowned at the formality of it.

"It's my resignation."

Instantly Cuddy rolled her eyes in indignation. If he thought pulling a stunt like this was going to get her to feel sorry for him, he had another thing coming.

"If this is you playing mind games, it's not going to work."

"For once I'm not…" Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, he felt his body shiver as it adjusted to the change in temperature. "I need a change."

She snorted in response.

"You wouldn't even let me change the carpet in your office after you were shot. You hate change!"

Avoiding making eye contact he looked past her towards her open bedroom door along the hall, the soft light welcoming, but no longer for him.

"Things already have changed… There's too many ghosts around that hospital. It's time for a fresh start."

"But you're staying in Princeton?"

Casually House shrugged.

"I thought I'd go travelling for a while and blow some of the money I've saved stealing Wilson's lunch over the years," he cracked more jovially than he truly felt. "After that I guess it depends on where I can find work… I'll need a reference."

Slowly Cuddy nodded her head trying to process what he was saying. This wasn't a trick, or a ploy to get her back, he'd already started to make plans. This was really happening.

"Fine… When do you want to go?"

"As soon as possible. I'm owed some leave so I figured I'd finish up on this case and then go… You were right about Foreman and Chase, so it won't be hard to find a replacement."

Seeing the shock permeate her features at the suddenness of it all, a tiny part of him felt relieved that she wasn't totally indifferent to him leaving. The rest of him just ached, forcing him to remind himself he was doing the right thing: for him and for her.

"And this is what you want?" she probed, scanning him for even the tiniest hint of indecision.

Resolutely he stared back at her. Of course it wasn't, but what he wanted was no longer an option and what was the point of letting her know that? She'd just re-iterate their new professional/personal boundaries and reassure him that their working relationship could still work if he wanted to stay, even if they both knew it couldn't. Lisa Cuddy had always been the patron saint of lost and hopeless causes. He should know.

"Yeah," he finally said firmly. "It's what I want."

For a few seconds they stood in an awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say until House's gaze shifted to the rucksack on the floor next to the coat stand. He'd left it at Cuddy's a few days earlier, but now it appeared to be considerably fuller. Following his eye line, she saw what he was looking at and picked it up.

"You left some things here. I was going to give them to you tomorrow, but seen as you're here."

With a smile she handed it over, wondering if this was the politest conversation they'd ever had. The whole thing seemed surreal. After years of not being afraid to get in each other's faces, this was an uncharacteristically placid goodbye. She knew they'd avoid each other for the next couple of days, and then he'd slip away with as little fuss as possible because of the circumstances of his departure. Perhaps because of that they were both subdued. No matter how things were ending between them, they'd been a big part of each other's lives for a long time.

"Thanks," he replied, taking the bag from her and flashing back a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He needed to go before he made a fool of himself, and ended this on an even more distressing note. "I guess I better leave you to it."

"Yeah," she agreed, not knowing whether to hug him, kiss him on the cheek or shake his hand. Nothing seemed appropriate, so she kept her distance.

Slinging the rucksack over his shoulder, he turned, re-opened the door and braced himself to go back out into the driving rain when something she said made him stop in his tracks.

"Wait." Craning his neck back round, he looked at her expectantly. "If you go back out there you'll either end up with pneumonia, or coming off your bike. There's a change of clothes in the bag. You can stay here until it stops raining."

Closing the door once more, he span around and propped himself against it.

"And you're ok with that?"

"You may not be my favourite person right now, but I'd be a pretty crappy human being if I let you go home in this weather."

"Nobody would blame you," he said quietly.

"Then you're lucky I'm not completely heartless." Looking him square in the eye for a moment, she let him see the sadness she was feeling, before setting her jaw once more. "You can watch TV if you want. I'm going back to bed." As if on cue she yawned and turned away from him, starting to head back to her room. "And don't even think about trying to sneak in later. I'm not afraid to use that baseball bat if I have to."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he called after her, watching her disappear down the hall and into the lit room.

How the hell had he let her slip through his fingers?

* * *

Before he'd even opened his eyes, House could sense somebody else's presence in the room with him. He hadn't intended to fall asleep at all. He'd changed out of his wet clothes, switched on the TV and sat down on the sofa waiting for the rain to stop tumbling down outside so he could leave. The trouble was the familiarity of his surroundings coupled with his lack of sleep the night before had conspired against him to make his eyelids slowly close.

Finally daring to open them he spotted the now dark television screen, and then looked across at the armchair adjacent to him where Cuddy was sat with her feet tucked underneath her, staring thoughtfully at the remnants of the fire he'd lit to stay warm a few hours earlier.

"It's stopped raining," he eventually mumbled, sitting up and glancing out of the window.

"Yeah."

"I fell asleep… I should go."

"Suit yourself."

Seeing a slight opening, he decided to try and keep the conversation going for as long as she'd allow it.

"How long have you been there for?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, the flames lighting up her face as she continued to focus on fireplace. "I fed Rachel and then I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Is everything ok?"

"Everything's great, House." The sarcasm in her tone was unmistakeable.

"You need to rest."

Finally she looked at him and narrowed her eyes accusingly.

"Is that you pretending to give a crap in your capacity as a doctor, or as the guy who knocked me up?"

"I care about you," he responded quietly, not wanting this to escalate into another full-blown argument. He'd done enough damage and he'd rather they parted ways without screaming at each other.

"Which explains why you're planning an extended holiday right now," she spat back venomously. Yes, she was the one who'd told him she didn't want him to have anything to do with her or the baby, but the ease and swiftness with which he'd accepted that, and was now planning to walk away for good, astounded her.

Frustratedly House pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes sockets, and rested his elbows on his knees.

"I'm leaving because I finally fucked up here like I have everywhere else. Admittedly it took a little longer than usual, but…" He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. He knew he didn't need to finish it. She was well aware of the trail of academic, professional and personal failures in his past. "Things haven't been the same with Wilson since what happened to Amber. He says he forgives me, but it's always there… Now you've realised I'm not worth the hassle."

He paused to look at her and then turned his attention to the rug in front of him. A couple of weeks earlier they'd sat there and eaten copious amounts of popcorn, her leaning into him as he teased her mercilessly about her terrible taste in movies. At the time he'd thought nothing of it, but now he realised just how happy something so domestic had actually made him. Every room held memories for him now and simply being there now felt like a mistake. He should have waited until morning and given her notice on more neutral ground.

"Even if by some miracle you don't fire me, I can't sit on the side-lines and wait for you to meet some square-jawed investment banker, who you'll marry and the baby will start calling Daddy... You and me were never going to work, because you're perfect and I am beyond messed up."

"You always fucking do this!" Cuddy replied angrily, raising her voice unexpectedly.

He frowned at her bewilderedly.

"What?"

"Put me on a pedestal, and then find ways to knock me off it… I'm not perfect. You've pointed out my faults on numerous occasions… We're both messed up. We both suck at relationships. I never expected things to be easy between us… I don't want easy, but at the end of the day I need to be with someone I can rely on when things get bad. Someone who doesn't drag me out in the middle of the night to insult me like a drunken teenager… The truth is I've known you half my life, and I still can't figure you out."

"You know me," he replied firmly.

"I really don't…" Almost sorrowfully she eyed him, before running her hand through her dark, wavy hair tiredly. "Sometimes, when it's just you and me, you can be the sweetest, funniest, most exciting man I've ever been with. Then other times, like the other night, you make me wonder if there's something wrong with me for being in love with someone who can hurt me that much."

Her admission that she was still in love with him made House gulp deeply. His decision to leave had been at least partially based on the fact he believed his outburst had squashed any feelings she'd had for him before. Things were no longer clear cut and he knew he owed her a frank explanation for his behaviour. It was obviously what she wanted and deserved.

"I didn't go to Kutner's funeral because I spent the day at his apartment."

"Why?"

He sighed.

"Because I was convinced the cops had missed something, when actually it was me… Greg House, the great diagnostician, couldn't spot clinical depression in someone who he worked with practically every day." Instantly the frown melted away from her forehead. Of course it was something he was going to struggle with, but people suffering with mental illness could often be notoriously good at hiding it from other people; even from doctors who were as attuned to other people's actions and behaviour as he was, but of course he wouldn't accept that easily. Keeping quiet, she let him continue. "I was pissed off, in pain and drunk and I ended up taking it out on the last person I should have taken it out on… No matter what I said, I love you."

"So you didn't mean anything you said?" Cuddy inquired sceptically, regarding him dubiously as he looked back at her with a mixture of nervousness and shock, like a little boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His stunned silence seemed to speak volumes. That night he'd been too articulate in his criticism of her for her to believe these were issues he hadn't mulled over many times before. One thing in particular bothered her. "How can you be in love with the bitch that mangled your leg? You were right. That is pretty twisted." Again his mute state spurred her on. "You had one relationship end because you couldn't forgive Stacy for agreeing to the procedure. You must really despise me for being the one who came up with the idea in the first place."

Uneasily he shifted around in his seat, and rubbed the limb they were talking about unconsciously.

"I don't despise you."

"But deep down you'll never be able to forgive me either… Every time you're in pain you'll blame me, and then throw it back in my face again."

"No!" he contradicted adamantly, finally finding his voice.

"You will and I can't live like that." Try as she may she couldn't see a way around it. The easiest thing in the World would be to take him back, but their renewed relationship would be like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and put them back at square one. "I sometimes wonder," she mused.

"About what?"

"If it had been me and you were the attending, what would you have done?"

Genuinely surprised by the question House turned away and stared into the fire, pressing his thumbs and fingers together into the rough shape of a teardrop. It wasn't something he'd ever really thought about. Aside from fertility problems, Cuddy had always been a picture of health to the point it was hard to imagine her laid in a hospital bed experiencing the pain he had during the infarction. She was the strong one, and along with Wilson, part of the duo he turned to when things went wrong, which they frequently did. The thought of her being as close to death as he'd been made him uneasy.

"I'd have amputated."

"Because it was the right thing to do?"

Medically amputation was the right course of action. Legally _both_ procedures were a minefield because of the lack of consent from the patient, despite being given the go ahead by a proxy. Had he been treating Joe Average, the threat of litigation would have been outweighed by his confidence that he'd done the right thing. If, however, it'd had been her life in the balance he knew his decision would have been informed by their friendship and a selfish need to keep her alive above all else. Sure, the outcome would have been the same, but the reasoning behind it would have been totally different.

Slowly he shook his head.

"You took into consideration the fact I was determined to keep my leg, no matter how stupid that was, and compromised by taking the riskier route to save my life. If anybody's to blame for the mess my leg is in, it's me. Not Stacy. Not you."

"Do you really think I enjoy seeing you in pain all the time?" she probed. It wasn't an accusation, but something she genuinely needed to know. The thought of him thinking she was capable of that had upset her above all else.

"No… I know you feel guilty about it, and like the asshole I am, I use it against you to get my own way." Finally verbalizing it he felt a wave of shame hit him. Saying it out loud made it seem just as low as it actually was. "I also know that if you hadn't gone ahead with the procedure I wouldn't be sat here now, and as crap as I think my life is sometimes it's better than being lowered into the ground in a box." Taking a deep breath, he paused to consider her original question again. "If it had been you I would have amputated regardless of what you wanted, because it was the least likely way to lose you... I've always needed you. I was just too stupid to see it."

"You had Stacy. We were just friends back then," she countered doubtfully.

"We've never just been friends, Cuddy." Soulfully his blue eyes met hers. He needed her to know he was being sincere. "There was a reason I never told Stacy what happened between us at college."

"Because she'd be jealous?" she quizzed doubtfully.

"Because she had reason to be."

Impatiently she rolled her eyes. There was no need for him to re-write history to sweet-talk her, or whatever it was he was trying to do.

"You loved her."

"And it's impossible to have feelings for two people at the same time?" he retorted forcefully. He had loved Stacy, there was no question about that, but Cuddy had gotten under his skin years before. It wasn't something he'd been immensely proud of at the time, nor was it something he was always consciously aware of, nevertheless what she meant to him wasn't something he'd never been able to control or even fully understand until now. "I've always cared about you… I just kept my distance because I guess on some level I knew I was bound to screw up sooner or later."

"Then why turn up on my doorstep after I lost Joy?"

"Because I didn't like seeing you hurt like that, and it was getting harder and harder to keep away," he answered simply.

It wasn't a lie. That night he hadn't been able to stop thinking how devastated she must have been, and before he knew where he was he was knocking on her front door.

Craning her neck backwards to lean against the back of the chair, Cuddy blew the air out of her lungs trying to come to terms with what he was telling her. Her head was swimming. Just as she'd reconciled herself to doing this on her own, he had to turn everything on its head. In light of who he was, who he'd always been, that was hardly surprising.

"Why are you telling me all of this now?"

"What have I got left to lose?"

Frowning as she watched him get to his feet, for a split second she thought he was leaving until he stepped towards her and slowly crouched down in front of her chair, wincing as the strain burnt in his thigh.

"Mind your leg," she practically whispered, biting her lip at the obvious discomfort he was experiencing.

"Fuck my leg!" he exclaimed with a pained grimace. "Not literally, obviously. That would be weird and highly inappropriate right now." In spite of herself, Cuddy smirked at the joke. Sensing her thaw a little House tentatively reached out and cupped her cheek, genuinely relieved when she didn't shy away from him. "I hate what I said to you and I'm so fucking sorry, but if you want me out of your life then I'll accept your decision and go. No turning up out of the blue. No more bullshit… It'd be better for both our sakes if we made a clean break."

"What do you want?"

He sighed at the question, and let his gaze hover over the gap in her gown over her abdomen. There was no getting around the responsibility he already felt for the life growing inside her. In all honesty he didn't want to, but he had to respect what she wanted. Taking what he'd done and his previous track record into consideration, he could understand why she might not be able to trust him again. This had to be all or nothing. Anything in between was never likely to work.

"I want my family back."

"And does that include Rachel?" she asked, mindful of the scathing comments he'd made about her daughter.

For a second he didn't quite know how to answer.

"You want me to be completely honest with you, right?" She nodded, and he took his time to respond. "I don't feel the same way about her as you do." Instantly he saw his words hit her like a physical blow and felt the need to clarify. "_Not yet_… The more time I spend with her, the more that's going to change… I'd never treat her differently from her little brother or sister." That was one thing he was certain of. He of all people knew what it felt like to be treated as if you were second best, and he had no intention of inflicting the same on Rachel. "I want you all back."

For what seemed like an eternity Cuddy just stared down at him, her teeth grazing nervously against her lips as she thought about how to respond. Becoming anxious he adjusted his position at the foot of her chair so that his knees were now resting on the floor. The temptation was to get up and get out of there before she rejected him, but he stayed, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair as he waited for an answer.

"You do that to me again and I'll cut your balls off."

Straight away the corners of his mouth ticked upwards into a grin.

"You should be careful. You know how much genital mutilation turns me on."

"I mean it," she countered seriously. "I can fight with you at work, but not at home too… You try anything like that again and I'll put you on a plane to Outer Mongolia myself."

"It's not going to happen again," he reassured her, reaching for her hand and lacing his fingers through hers, the relief gradually permeating through his body and making him feel weary. Mischievously he raised a quizzical eyebrow. "If I try and kiss you, are you going to slap me?"

Unfurling her legs from underneath her, Cuddy manoeuvred her feet either side of him and leant forward so her face was a matter of inches from his.

"You should probably just see what happens."

Admiringly his eyes roamed from hers to her lips.

"God, I love you!"

"You'd better."

With that he claimed her mouth, his lips delicately grazing hers at first, until her appreciative moans drove him to deepen the embrace further, his tongue playfully jostling with hers as his fingers wove into the curls of her hair. Technically they'd only been apart for a little over forty-eight hours, but it seemed like much, much longer. Their renewed physical contact was making him want to take things further, but he knew that would be too much, too soon. Besides this was nice, better than nice, and he was more than happy to go along with this relatively virtuous encounter as long she would allow it.

As if someone was reading his mind a third party intervened and broke them apart, their preoccupied state not allowing them to process what the noise coming from the nursery actually was for a second or two.

"I'd better go," Cuddy conceded disappointedly, glancing at the clock on the mantel and realising it was around the right time for her daughter's next feed.

"I'll get her."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," he responded, awkwardly levering himself up against the chair and pecking her affectionately on the forehead. "If I'm going to start bonding properly with the kid there's no time like the present."

With a smile she settled back into the chair and watched him leave the room. Not that long ago House using the word 'bonding' in a non-sarcastic manner would have seemed completely incongruous. It still did, but surely this was evidence that he was beginning to disprove his own mantra that nobody changes. He was never going to be the happiest human being on the planet, but his willingness to let her in tonight had demonstrated that he was starting to evolve into the man she needed him to be. Perhaps becoming a father was the one thing that could make him grow up.

Five minutes later he re-entered the room, frowning at the baby in his arms as she gulped at the bottle he was holding in place for her.

"She drinks milk like Wilson drinks beer… Sometimes I have to throw him over my shoulder and burp him too."

When there was no answer, he looked up and saw Cuddy reclining back in the chair, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she slept peacefully. Sitting back down on the sofa, he felt tiny digits grip his index finger and glanced down to see the little girl focusing on his face as she continued to drink her milk.

"Looks like it's just you and me kiddo," he said softly, unable to hold back a smile as the sound of his voice caused Rachel to grab his finger even tighter.

For all of the fears he'd lost his freedom that still gnawed at him, he had to admit there were probably a million and one worse ways to live your life.

* * *

"I can't believe you let me sleep in," Cuddy grumbled as she set foot through the hospital entrance with House a step behind her. The light striking through the window had stirred her, only to find her boyfriend snoring on the sofa, and that she'd woken up an hour later than usual with a crick in her neck.

"Well I was pretty unconscious myself." He gestured towards the standard milling around of the staff and patients when he caught up to her, and lowered his voice. "It's not as if Rome burnt while I was admiring your ass in the shower."

Warningly she raised an eyebrow at him, and skittishly looked at the group to junior doctors walking past them to see if they'd heard anything. Thankfully they seemed to be too engrossed in the information her Head of Orthopedic Surgery was doling out as they wandered after him.

"Behave!"

"Yes Mom!"

Stopping when they reached the desk Cuddy placed her bag down on the floor and hurriedly reached over the counter to grab the files she'd requested be left there the night before.

"I've got to prepare for a meeting with Sanford Wells in less than…" She paused to check the time on her watch. "Three minutes."

"Just flash him your boobs and he won't care if you're late," he quipped under his breath, amused when she pursed her lips and continued looking through the files.

"That's not helpful, House."

"Think how I feel falling on my sword and allowing him to ogle the mother of my child."

Ignoring him she carried on reading, whilst he leant on the counter and clocked a couple of nurses clearly gossiping about him and Cuddy near the elevators. Glancing backwards and forwards between each other, the Dean and Head of Diagnostics they couldn't be less subtle if they tried. Bets had no doubt been placed on if and when they'd get back together, and truth be told if he wasn't one of the people in question he'd probably be in on it too.

Turning his attention to a woman near them, his heart leapt into his mouth when he saw the back of a tall, blonde doctor pressing the call button and waiting for the elevator doors to slide open amongst a group of visitors. For a few seconds everything seemed to slow down. His feet glued to the spot and the same icy chill rose slowly up his spine as the day before. Yesterday had to be a one-off brought on by the stress of the break up and the likely still elevated levels of alcohol in his bloodstream_. It had to be._ Didn't it?

Watching the doctor step forward as they opened, involuntarily the air filtered out of his lungs as she turned and afforded him a view of her face. From behind she may have looked like Amber, but the young woman's complexion and facial structure were a completely different matter. Letting his body sag out of relief, he ran a placating hand through his hair and inwardly told himself to get a grip.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy asked, interrupting his musings. Her brow was furrowed in concern.

"Absolutely nothing! In fact…" Bending down he kissed her relatively chastely on the cheek and pulled away, catching money changing hands between the two nurses out of the corner of his eye.

"What was that for?"

He shrugged.

"I thought that was a little more low-key than announcing we were back together over the tannoy, or making out in the OR in front of the med students."

In response she bit back a chuckle.

"Our relationship is nobody else's business."

"And yet you like the fact that I like the fact everybody knows I'm with the hottest women in New Jersey," he challenged.

"Flattery isn't going to dig you out of this hole."

Grinning from ear to ear, he knew all too well that she was enjoying the back and forth. This was verbal foreplay that was hopefully going to turn physical when he finally got her to himself later that evening. He still had a lot of making up to do.

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?" Spinning around he planted his elbows on the reception desk. "I'll just stay here and make sure you get to your office ok."

Cuddy was well aware that was actually code for, ''I'll just stay here and stare at your ass."

"Pervert."

"Sue me!" he instantly chirped back, his eyes burning into hers provocatively.

Amused, she shook her head and gathered the files together under her arm, bending to pick up her work bag, and then walked away, exaggerating the sway of her hips for the benefit of the approving onlooker.

"So how did you manage that?" a familiar voice inquired behind him, following his line of vision.

Only turning when his girlfriend had entered the clinic, he instantly saw the bemused look on Wilson's face. Not having spoken to his best friend since their encounter in her office the day before, he knew he was completely in the dark and was happy to keep things that way. Telling him he'd offered her his resignation would only lead to another lecture. Of course it was going to come at some point, but he'd prefer to put it off as long as possible.

"I let her hang me from the ceiling and beat me with my cane like a human piñata." Immediately the oncologist regarded him with a mix of horror and confusion. Thoroughly entertained House patted him on the shoulder. "Where Cuddy's concerned no pain, no gain, Jimmy… You should really come to dinner and we can show you her whip collection."

Satisfied he'd disturbed his dumbfounded friend enough, House walked around him and meandered to the elevators whistling "Heigh-ho" cheerfully.

Things really could change in the blink of an eye.


	7. Chapter 7

_A big thank you to everybody who has read, reviewed, favourited and alerted over the past week. As ever it's much appreciated._

_Not entirely sure when I'll churn out the next chapter, so I'll apologise for the cliffhanger in advance. It depends if the family annoy me so much over Christmas that I lock myself in a room with my laptop. Alternatively I could just open a bottle of wine…_

_In this alternate universe 'Foreteen', the one joke ship, didn't happen. Angst ahoy! _

_As far as I know they still don't belong to me._

* * *

As she bit into a piece of lettuce, Cuddy stared blankly at her computer screen. Ever since she'd come into her office that morning she'd worked solidly, and was only just allowing herself a few minutes break whilst she ate her lunch. Suddenly a knock at her door brought a welcome distraction, as Wilson popped his head in.

"Hi," she said with a grin, gesturing for him to take a seat. It really was good to see a friendly face.

"Hey!" He smiled back and sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk. "I was going to ask if you fancied lunch in the cafeteria, but…"

The oncologist nodded towards the salad bowl on her desk.

"I've got to work right through. Budget reports are due."

"You should be taking things easier."

"I'm pregnant, not ill. As boring as it is, I doubt a collating a few pie charts is going to harm me or the baby," she retorted sarcastically. "It's bad enough that House won't let me do anything at home."

A wry smirk spread turned up the corners of Wilson's mouth. The thought of House running around after somebody else seemed both insane and endlessly amusing.

"You should probably be enjoying that while it lasts."

"Who says I'm not?" she responded coyly, musing over how things had been at home since they'd gotten back together a couple of weeks ago. Watching him turn the kitchen into a bomb site when he cooked, or flooded the bathroom floor when he gave Rachel a bath was frustrating, but at the same time she couldn't help but be touched by the effort he was making, especially as that sort of thing didn't come naturally to him.

"So everything's ok with you guys?"

Immediately his tone unnerved her. He was trying to sound casual, but obviously something was concerning him.

"Why shouldn't they be?"

Wilson hesitated for a second, and shifted uneasily in his seat.

"It's nothing."

Cuddy frowned, not at all satisfied with his answer. The longer he held out, the more pissed off/worried she was going to get.

"Is this you coming to sound me out because he's done something wrong?... I swear if he's broken the MRI again you can tell him I'll kick his ass."

"It's fine… As far as I know anyway."

"Then why are you here?" she demanded, making him fold his arms defensively. They'd been friends for years now, nevertheless he knew the woman sat in front of him was formidable when she was on the war path. For the life of him he couldn't understand why House got a buzz out of arguing with her, and even provoking her. Trying to keep something from her was hard enough.

Sighing deepy, he looked at her sheepishly.

"Thirteen came to see me last night… At my apartment."

For a second she didn't know how to respond. It wouldn't be the first time Wilson had started something with one of House's fellows, but this seemed a little implausible.

"I didn't know you two were friends… You're not... You know?"

"What?" he responded, his brow furrowing in confusion before he realised what she meant and his hands flew out in mortification. "Me and Thirteen? No! No way!... I mean the whole bisexual thing is intriguing, but she's not my type."

Part amused, part impatient Cuddy raised her eyebrows at him. That was probably much more information than she either needed or wanted.

"Now we've cleared that up, would you mind telling me what her coming to see you has to do with House?"

"She's worried about him." Seeing the fear fleeting across Cuddy's eyes, he paused and then began to wonder if he was doing the right thing. But what other option did he have? If something really was going on with her boyfriend and the Father of her child, she had a right to know. "She thinks the pain in his leg is getting worse. Apparently they've all noticed that he's taking more Vicodin than usual."

"No he's not," she contested forcefully.

"You're sure?"

"Well you're the one who writes his scripts."

Uneasily her friend bit his lip.

"I think he may have borrowed my pad… I left it in my office, and then when I came back it was in a different place. I thought I was imagining things, but in light of all this…"

Miserably Cuddy leaned over the desk and rested her head in her hand.

In the past he'd blatantly dry swallowed pills in front of her just to annoy her, but since the night he'd turned up on her doorstep she couldn't actually remember seeing him physically take anything, and in the midst of everything else, how much he was actually using had dropped off her radar. That he may have been concealing it from her made her all the more frightened. Either the pain was psychosomatic, which meant it was a symptom of some emotional turmoil that he didn't want her to know about, or it was real and his thigh was deteriorating, which again he'd made a point of hiding from her. Neither option was particularly appealing, but the latter shook her to her core. What if there was another embolism?

She gulped as a pang of guilt twisted in her stomach.

"This is my fault."

"How is this your fault?" Wilson inquired incredulously.

"I should have noticed something."

She couldn't help but internally berate herself. For the last week or so her main concern had been finding a new home for them, and consequently she'd missed this.

"You're underestimating how good he is at keeping a secret."

"And yet he was blatantly popping pills in front of his team?"

"He underestimates how much other people actually care about him." Watching her chew her lip anxiously, the oncologist felt the need to step in. Instinctively he'd always been protective of both of them. It was an impulse he'd never been able to control, but now more than ever seen as they had so much to lose. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

In response Cuddy pursed her lips for a moment as if she was considering his offer, and then slowly shook her head.

"No… This has got to come from me."

* * *

"So what do you think?" Cuddy asked, turning to House and watching him wince almost imperceptibly as he span around on the spot to get a better look at the huge, empty room they were both standing in.

The day before they'd arranged to view the property with Wilson's second wife, who'd left them with the keys to get a feel for the place a good fifteen to twenty minutes previously. It hadn't been the first one they'd seen, on the other hand it had been the first one to tick all the right boxes. Three bedrooms, space for an office and generally enough room for them to merge their belongings. Furthermore the price was negotiable, and because the vendor had already left the country, they could move in when they wanted.

Taking his time to answer, he eventually shrugged.

"It's fine."

"We could have the sofa there. Maybe a few bookcases along the wall, and your piano in the corner if you want…" Looking behind her Cuddy pointed to the wooden units and the large stove. "Having the kitchen and the living room open plan means we could keep an eye on the babies when we're cooking too."

"Cool," he nodded, not appearing to share her enthusiasm.

"If you don't like it Bonnie said there are other options, but it would mean moving further away from work."

Again he shrugged and flexed his jaw as he took in the oak floors and the cream walls around him. It wasn't that he didn't like it. It just felt non-descript, characterless and cold, but perhaps that wasn't the problem. Perhaps he was just averse to moving somewhere he didn't know like his own apartment, or Cuddy's house. Years of moving from one place to another as a child when his father had been posted to various bases, and then from one college/workplace before he came to Princeton had made him cling to the things, places and people he knew like a comfort blanket. Any sort of change was a leap into the unknown, and there'd already been enough of that recently.

"Whatever you want."

"This is supposed to be about what we both want," Cuddy said cautiously. She didn't want a fight, but after her chat with Wilson earlier it was clear she needed to get to the bottom of what was bothering him, be it physical or psychological.

"Like I said it's fine," he responded bluntly, then walked away and perched on the window seat that looked out into the garden at the rear of the house.

"If this is too much… You and me moving in together properly I mean."

"We need a new place, Cuddy… You were right. By the time the baby's here Rachel might be sleeping better and she'll need a room of her own."

Slowly she meandered towards him, her heels clicking on the polished floor, until she stopped in front of him and smoothed down her skirt apprehensively, momentarily thinking she should have gone home to change first instead of them coming straight from work.

"If you're having second thoughts about us I need to know."

Immediately his head snapped up and he panicked.

"Why would I be having second thoughts?"

"You tell me," his girlfriend shot back impatiently, sitting down next to him. "I know the pain's worse. We both know your leg sometimes hurts more when you're anxious or angry about something… I also know you forged Wilson's signature on a script…"

Annoyed, his tongue stuck firmly into his cheek. He should have known this was what the worried looks and concerned glances had been about when she drove them there.

"He wasn't around and I needed Vicodin."

"It's illegal! Have you forgotten everything that happened with Tritter?" Unimpressed that she was bringing that whole incident up, she watched him pout and look outside. "I haven't owing to the fact I had to perjure myself to get you out of trouble last time… The deal was you either went to Wilson, or you came to me."

"So who's the snitch? I mean aside from Wilson obviously." Evidently a member of his team had blown the whistle.

"For God's sake, House, it doesn't matter!" she protested heatedly. "What matters is you didn't feel like you could come and talk to me… After everything we went through before."

Hearing her last sentence was sobering. She was right, yet again he'd kept things from her and she had every right to be annoyed with him.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"And you didn't think I'd worry more if I found out you were keeping things from me?"

Scanning his eyes over the overgrown grass in the garden as the setting Sun cast shadows, he sighed resignedly.

"I have bad days and they usually pass."

"But this isn't?"

He shook his head and turned back to face her, his eyes meeting hers sorrowfully.

"I don't know what's wrong… I'm not sure I want to."

He had no regrets about being with Cuddy, of that he was one hundred percent sure, but there was something intangible constantly at the back of his mind that made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss.

Sensing his fear and swallowing her own, she reached out and cupped his cheek reassuringly.

"Tomorrow we'll get you checked out."

"What if there is something?"

"Then we deal with it. Whatever it is," she retorted evenly.

"Even if that means me losing my leg?"

"Well, it'll make choosing a costume for you for the fancy dress fundraisers a lot easier," she responded with mock seriousness, observing the mix of confusion and amusement dancing across his features. "To tell you the truth I've always had a thing for pirates since Captain Hook took me back to my Dad when I got lost in Disneyworld. Throw in an eye-patch and a parrot, and I'll walk the plank whenever you want me to."

In spite of himself House laughed heartily. Sometimes he forgot when Cuddy wasn't in full 'Dean-mode' she had the same dark sense of humour as him.

"You are un-fucking-believable!"

With a sincere smile she leant forward and pressed her lips against his briefly; a simple kiss full of meaning.

"I love you," she whispered, only moving a matter of inches away from him as her mouth still tingled from the contact. "The number of limbs you may or may not have in the future is irrelevant."

"It'd be difficult," he warned. She may be a doctor, but he didn't want her to get into this with her eyes closed. Amputation and then the months/years of rehabilitation afterwards would not be pretty. Forcing her to put up with that seemed unfair.

"I told you before, I don't do easy."

"But…"

"But nothing," she interrupted, placing an assertive finger over his lip to shut him up.

Sagging with relief, House kissed her forehead and pulled her into the nape of his neck, then turned his attention back outside and enjoyed the moment. No matter what happened he knew she was the woman he needed. In spite of the constant pain, for the first time in years he was waking up happy and content, or as much as he could be with this hanging over his head.

"I like the garden," he commented casually, eyeing the maple in the far right-hand corner next to the fence. "When Rachel and the baby are older we can hang a rope off the tree and make a swing."

Knowingly, she grinned into his leather jacket.

"This is really you asking for a swing isn't it?"

For a second there was a pregnant pause.

"Maybe."

"And this is a deal-breaker?

"Yup."

Cuddy snorted. For the life of her she couldn't get the thought House and Wilson fighting over whose turn it was out of her head. Hilariously it wasn't such an outlandish thought.

"Then I guess we better put an offer in."

"Cool!" he responded much more emphatically than he had the last time he'd used the expression, making her hope he was coming round to the place.

Sitting up she glanced around and then eyed her boyfriend contemplatively, the slight glint in her eye making him wonder what she was thinking.

"What?"

"It's just we don't have to give the keys back yet, and Marina said she was fine to stay until seven."

Coyly she bit her lip.

Glancing down at his watch he saw that left them with at least another forty-five minutes. Whatever she had in mind, his interest was definitely piqued.

"And?"

"And in my professional opinion endorphins are really good for pain."

Without waiting for him to respond, she stood up and slipped her jacket off her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor, before unbuttoning her blouse and settling her gaze on him longingly. Baffled and battling his instinctive response to her current state of undress, he frowned and shifted awkwardly on the cushion as he felt the front of his pants tighten.

"What are you doing?"

Nonchalantly she placed her palms on his knees and sank down to the ground in between his legs, not moving her eyes from his as she tickled the fingertips on one hand under his shirt and unbuckled his belt with the other.

"Should I draw you a picture?"

"Cuddy," he cautioned, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he took in the sight before him. Now that the morning sickness had more or less abated, pregnancy agreed with her. With the remnants of the daylight bouncing off her face she looked vibrant, sexy and exceptionally beautiful. Even more so than usual.

Defiantly she continued to stare back at him and undid his fly painfully slowly, the sound echoing loudly off the walls in the empty expanse.

"Are you too chicken for this, House?"

Letting out a low growl, he conceded and lifted his ass up so she could edge his jeans and shorts down, not so secretly pleased that his burgeoning manhood no longer felt constrained.

"Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

Gently she wrapped her fist around his cock, her other hand venturing under his t-shirt again and ghosting over the tightening muscles on his torso.

"Maybe you're a bad influence on me… Or a good one depending on which way you look at it."

Leisurely she worked her palm along the length of him, and smiled to herself when she saw his nails whitening as he dug them into the cushions either side of him. On and off and in various guises, they'd been together for a little over seven months now, and she still loved knowing she had this effect on him. The consuming need, the deep-seated attraction was always reciprocated, but right now she'd ignore the familiar ache between her thighs. It was her turn to take care of him.

"Fuck!" he moaned, his hips bucking forward as she tightened her grip on him.

"Feel good?"

"Yeah."

His jaw had slackened, and she knew he was fighting to stay in control.

"You know I can make you feel even better."

Through hooded eyes he watched her mouth envelop him before, wound his fingers into her hair and laid his head back against the cold glass of the window, squeezing his eyes shut as the sensation of her tongue swirling around him was almost too much.

Before he lost all power of coherent thought, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was. Having everything he did right now with the woman he was ridiculously in love with felt like a dream.

A dream he never wanted to end.

* * *

Restlessly House turned onto his back and stared at the bedroom ceiling, absently kneading his aching thigh. He'd been trying to drop off ever since Cuddy had fallen asleep a few hours earlier, and now she was turned away from him, her even breaths further proof she'd found the rest that was proving elusive to him.

Deciding to get up before the remaining muscle began to cramp, he carefully slipped out from under the covers, tiptoed out of the room and headed into the kitchen, narrowing his eyes against the light when he flicked on the switch. Opening the cupboard where they kept the medicines, he pulled out a quarter full bottle of Vicodin and popped open the lid, tumbling a couple of pills onto his hand and then swallowing them.

Inwardly he was pleased he'd managed to get up without waking her. After they'd got back from the viewing and put Rachel to bed, he'd caught her taking his pills out of his bag and slipping them into the cupboard. It wasn't that she was keeping them from him, but she was clearly concerned about how much he was taking. Enough to put them somewhere she was able to keep to monitor his intake, because that was obviously the point of her subterfuge.

When Cuddy fretted about something he could sense the nervous energy emanating off her. All sorts of possible scenarios had probably run through her mind, liver failure and prison no doubt featuring prominently, but while he understood why she might be worried, her interference still bothered him. He wasn't a moron, as a doctor he knew the risks all too well, but that didn't mean he enjoyed being treated like a child. If she could trust him with her daughter, why couldn't she trust him enough to be in control of how much Vicodin he took?

Resolving to make a stand, he slipped the bottle into the pocket of his pyjama bottoms and grabbed a soda from the fridge, drinking some as he closed the door and was greeted by the grainy, black and white scan photo of the baby from four weeks previously. He couldn't help but smile as he ran his finger over the head, torso and disproportionately tiny limbs. He or she would be almost double the size now with minute finger and toenails beginning to form on their little hands and feet: now less like an alien, more like the human being that would pop out in around five months. The realisation that he was going to be somebody's Dad often hit in sporadic waves. It was a dizzying, frightening notion, but mostly he was excited. He, Gregory House, was looking forward to becoming a father. That in itself mystified him.

Suddenly a floorboard creaking in the hallway made him turn towards the door. Nervously he put the can down on the surface and instinctively reached into his pocket to clasp the pill bottle. If Rachel had woken up he'd have heard her before Cuddy, which meant his girlfriend was probably investigating where he was. Hesitantly he stuck his head into the hall, and frowned when he saw the light was still off in the bedroom. Perhaps in his tired state he was just hearing things?

Electing to step into the nursery to check on the baby before he went back to bed, House grimaced when the door creaked and padded softly along floor until he reached the cot, lookeing down at the little girl whose arms were splayed out above her head as if in some display of submission when sleep had hit her.

And then he felt it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and the familiar chill ran up each nodule of his spine. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a hand skim the sides of the cot torturously slowly as if the owner was taunting him. The same hand he'd frantically tried to grasp hold of as the bus tumbled over and over and threw them around like dolls.

In desperation he screwed his eyes shut and tried to convince himself this wasn't happening. _He was in bed. Cuddy was next to him. This was just a nightmare. _

Slowly he opened them again and felt his whole body begin to shake, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead as his heart rate raced.

At the other side of the cot Amber glanced down at the baby and then looked up at him, a cruel smirk forcing the corners of her mouth upwards.

"You miss me, House?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to everybody who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted the last chapter. I hope you all had a nice Christmas/Hanukkah or just a wonderful couple of weeks, and an equally nice New Year._

_Special thanks to the 'Fic Pimp' for providing inspiration in the form of possible baby outfits for the fictional baby that is still in utero, and to my wee troll for providing the laughs with the decapitation/tiny penis obsession. One of these days I'll write a special crack! fic just for you. ;)_

_I can't promise Lucas won't get a passing mention along the way, but it will be tongue in cheek. House won't be having chair-based sex with Franka Potente either. Super angsty here, but things will improve. Bear with me._

_Not my characters. I try not to mess up that spectacularly._

* * *

House was literally speechless. Try as he may to form a sentence, it just wasn't possible. Stood just a matter of a couple feet of feet away from him was a woman he knew to be dead, as tangible and seemingly real as the baby in the cot. The detail of his hallucination unnerved him too. The Amber before him now wasn't some hazy, ghost-like figure. The night-light in the nursery allowed him to make each individual hair on her head and the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she appeared to be breathing in and out just like him.

Feeling bile rising up his throat as a wave of nausea hit him he took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers tightly around the length of wood in front of him, his knuckles turning white under the pressure.

"What's the matter, House?" she pressed with evident amusement. "It's not like you to be lost for words."

"You're not real."

"And yet you're talking to me."

Not knowing how to counter that, he hesitated and then asked the obvious.

"Is this the Vicodin?"

"Well you're a little too old to be presenting with symptoms of schizophrenia for the first time."

"What about MS?" House asked desperately, only to be met with a chuckle as she folded her arms and took on the demeanour of a disapproving school teacher. "Why is that funny?"

"Because you'd rather engage in a differential with a deceased colleague, than even think about someone taking your candy away from you… You've got to admit that is pretty amusing coming from the guy who spends most of his days calling his patients liars and idiots, because they won't tell the truth and won't accept what's good for them… You're an addict, House. You roll the dice and some day you're bound to face the consequences."

In response the diagnostician bowed his head and watched Rachel's tiny foot twitch under her cover, trying to focus on something else other than what she'd just said, and the searing pain in his thigh. It was futile though. She was right. He'd treated enough addicts over the years to know that addiction always came to a head one way or another, nevertheless he'd managed to delude himself that that didn't apply to him, that somehow he'd avoid it. Now he was staring the proof that he wouldn't right in the face.

"I'll won't take as much," he offered pathetically, the words coming out as little more than a whisper.

"Sure you won't! That's why you're thinking about reaching into your pocket and pulling out the bottle right now… The great Gregory House, diagnostician and junkie. That's some example you'll be setting your kids…" Immediately he snapped his head up and looked at her just as her eyes fell to the baby in between them. "Except this one isn't yours, right?"

"I look after her."

Inwardly he cringed at the feebleness of the statement. Marina 'looked after her'. So did Julia on the odd occasion, but that didn't make her theirs either.

"And that's very noble of you, but let's be honest, she's Cuddy's kid, not yours… How long before she notices you treat her differently?"

"That's not going to happen," he countered resolutely, feeling himself get increasingly pissed off as she smirked at him patronisingly.

"You ever wonder if your Dad looked down at you when you were a baby and told himself the same thing? I mean he must have known you weren't his long before you rubbed it in his face… The guy was an idiot, but basic math wasn't completely beyond him."

"I'd never hurt her."

"You say that, but…"

"I'm not my Dad!" House retorted, finally raising his voice and straight away regretting it when Rachel roused and whimpered, her eyes opening briefly before she settled down again, both of them watching as she clumsily rubbed at her nose and turned her head the other way.

"If you're firmly on the nature side of the debate let's just hope your kid takes after Cuddy."

"Shut up."

"Why? Touchy subject?" Amber inquired nonchalantly, dropping her hands to her side and then walking over to the rocking chair and taking a seat. Crossing one leg over the other she looked around at her surroundings. "Shame you have to move. This place is nice. Homely… Kind of ironic that you're the one who ended up with everything."

House frowned at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged.

"Just that you're the one who constantly screws up, and yet you get to play happy families while James is sat in our apartment on his own… Not really fair is it?"

"I'm not responsible for what happened to you."

"Directly? Maybe not. We both know you've gone over that night hundreds of times and wished you'd never got me to pick you up. Clearly you feel guilty enough about it to be seeing me now… Maybe Kutner will pop up any minute too, because boy did you mess up there as well!... Too busy knocking up your boss to even notice he was depressed."

"He hid it."

"And you really think you'd have missed it if your mind wasn't elsewhere?"

Feeing defeated House watched as she settled further back into the chair triumphantly, one eyebrow raised in provocation. This version of his former employee, an extension of his own subconscious, was playing to his weaknesses and he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Bad things always happen to the people who get close to you," she continued. "You made Stacy miserable, you destroyed what James and I had and you let Kutner put a gun in his mouth… So who's next? Thirteen? Chase? Or maybe someone a little closer to home?... You reckon Cuddy is going to be left unscathed? Personally, I don't like her chances."

"She and the baby are fine," he insisted, his whole body beginning to shake in fear and indignation.

"For now."

Almost immediately House slid to the floor, the pain in his thigh becoming excruciating and the other leg was too unstable to continue holding his weight.

_Cuddy had to be alright. _He needed her. He always had, and her, Rachel and the baby were his chance at a fresh start: his pass to the normality he'd always craved, but had never allowed himself to hope for before now. But what if Amber was right? What if him being in her orbit would somehow lead to her getting hurt? He'd already done enough damage the night they'd argued, before then even. Maybe that was the tip of the iceberg of what he was capable of.

A stray tear fell from the corner of his eye and meandered down the side of his cheek, as his hallucination leant forward and snarled at him.

"Karma's a bitch, House."

* * *

Rubbing her tired eyes, Cuddy pushed open the door to the nursery, the sound of Rachel crying grating through her. Initially she'd ignored her whimpers, the empty side of the bed making her think her boyfriend was already on the case. When they'd continued she fought her exhaustion and left the comparative warmth under the covers, quickly pulling her gown around her and padding a few steps down the hall in her bare feet. And then she saw him slumped awkwardly on the floor, his head against the cot as he stared at the bookcase against the far wall. Instantly she knew something was up.

"House?" When he didn't acknowledge her she walked towards him and crouched at his side, gulping back her own fear before she opened her mouth again, as Rachel continued to grouse intermittently. "What's wrong? Is it your leg?"

Tenderly she ran the back of her hand over his damp forehead, and felt his head sag instinctively into her palm as his gaze still lingered in the middle distance.

"This can't work," he mumbled. "Something will happen and I won't see it coming. I'll fuck up like I always do."

"You're not making any sense. Fuck up what?"

Finally turning to look at her, she saw how petrified he was.

"You, Rachel and the baby need to get away from me…. I should have gone before… I need to go."

Attempting to haul himself up, his limbs shook like jello preventing sustained co-ordination in his movements until Cuddy forcefully pushed him back down.

"You're not going anywhere!... Look at me!" Not having the strength to do anything else he obeyed, his straight-forward acceptance further confirming the seriousness of the situation to her. Looking into his unfocused eyes, his tiny pupils and general manner were evidence that he'd overdosed, but she needed to know exactly how much of the drug was in his system. Even if she knew how many pills were left in the bottle when she'd placed them in the cupboard, she still had no idea if he had secret stashes elsewhere that he'd dipped into. If that was the case they'd need to get him to hospital as soon as possible to prevent liver damage. "I need to know how much Vicodin you've taken."

Confusedly he glanced down and opened his clenched fist, revealing the last two tablets he'd taken from the bottle a little while earlier.

"Just the bottle from the cupboard?"

He nodded and regarded her desperately.

"It's not enough."

"For what?" she asked, trying not to allow the panic seep into her voice as she checked his pulse at the side of his neck and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a little weak, but thankfully nothing to be overly concerned about yet. The best course of action would be to make him throw up as soon as possible she told herself, using her professional expertise to distract herself from the nauseating thought that he could have done this deliberately.

"I can't deal with the pain, and I can't lose you."

"You're not losing me."

"But I will," House responded forlornly, his features fully demonstrating his aching despondency. "She was right. Something bad always happens to the people who get close to me."

Cuddy's brow furrowed. Who the hell was he talking about?

"Who said that?"

He paused for a second and dropped his head to look at the wooden floor. There was a temptation not to tell her, to deflect and keep what he'd just been through a secret, but he'd already more or less let the cat out of the bag. Suddenly he felt ashamed. His girlfriend was pregnant, the baby behind him was crying to be fed and yet he was the one snatching all the attention. He was a mess, who didn't deserve a family.

"Amber," he eventually replied softly, going on to elucidate further when he saw how baffled she looked. "I'm hallucinating… I not even sure if you're real."

Getting down onto her knees, Cuddy kissed his forehead and then rested her chin on the top of his head, as her arm pulled him towards her. Biting her lip she fought in vain to hold back the tears, searing guilt stabbing at her. _How could she have allowed herself to miss this? _She'd been so absorbed with Rachel, the pregnancy, work and finding a new home that she'd failed to see he was floundering. House had always been up and down, but now the particularly erratic mood swings on his part made complete and utter sense. She'd let him down.

"I'm real, baby."

"I couldn't see to Rachel… I didn't want to hurt her."

"She's ok, I'll feed her in minute," she said unevenly, hearing the wobble in her tone and immediately berating herself. She had to stay calm for his sake. "We need to get you to the bathroom, and then I'll call Wilson."

Tightly he gripped onto her hand. He felt like he was sinking and she was his only lifeline.

* * *

House pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and shivered slightly. He felt drained as he sat on the sofa, Cuddy perched in the chair adjacent to him with Wilson next to her on the arm. Despite having his head in his hands he knew they were both staring at him in between concerned glances at each other.

After appeasing Rachel with a bottle his girlfriend had sat with him in the bathroom until she was satisfied he'd emptied the contents of stomach, and then they'd waited for their friend to arrive. When he did, aside from Cuddy explaining to him what had happened in greater detail than over the phone, they'd said little to each other, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on them all.

"Amber?" Wilson eventually asked, breaking the tentative silence.

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, House heard the bewilderment in his best friend's voice. It was hardly surprising. After Wilson had decided to stay in Princeton after the accident they'd barely mentioned her. It wasn't that she was forgotten, but their truce had been a delicate one and the hurt had continued to bubble under the surface, in spite of their superficial 'business as usual' attitude to one another subsequent to John House's funeral. Neither of them had wanted to rock the boat.

"What do you want to do?"

House sighed. The question irritated him. It was fairly obvious what the right course of action was.

"What I want to do, and what I need to do are two different things."

"You can detox here," Cuddy said softly, chewing her lip nervously when his eyes met hers.

"With a baby in the house?"

"Julia can take Rachel for a few days."

"You're pregnant!" he countered firmly, flickering his eyelids shut for a second as he saw Amber enter the room and sit down on the sofa next to him. Evidently the Vicodin that still remained in his bloodstream was enough to continue playing tricks with him.

Crossing one leg over the other, he swore he could feel her breath on the back of his neck as she leant next to his ear and spoke.

"I see Mom and Dad are staging an intervention. Did I miss much?"

Not seeing the point of alerting his girlfriend and best friend that he perceived a fourth person to be in the room, he opted to ignore her and remain as composed as possible, looking once more in Cuddy's direction and addressing her again.

"I am going to be the biggest asshole once I start going into withdrawal." He paused for a moment and wet his lips, the thought of what he was about to go through quite honestly petrifying him. "The pain will be excruciating and all I'm going to want is Vicodin… It's not going to matter who or what gets in my way… You wouldn't be safe around me."

"I can deal with it."

"No!" he barked definitively.

"He's right," Wilson butted in, placing a hand on her shoulder just as she opened her mouth to contradict him. "He needs to detox in a proper facility."

"What about the rehab centre at the hospital?"

"I know it too well," House confessed. "I'll find a way out within twenty four hours. It'd have to be somewhere else." Aside from that he wasn't exactly keen on suffering the ritual humiliation of being treated by people he'd no doubt pissed off during his time at PPTH.

Wearily Wilson ran a hand through his hair and pursed his lips as if he was mulling something over.

"I can call in a favour with someone at Mayfield. See if they've got space." House shrugged and nodded. He had little choice. "Ok," Wilson confirmed standing up and pulling his cell from his pocket, before heading out into the hall to conduct the conversation, leaving him alone with Cuddy and his hallucinatory version of Amber.

"Well this is awkward," the dead woman chirped up almost gleefully. Again he ignored her and focused his attention on his girlfriend, her chin resting on the palm of her hand as she stared distractedly at the floor. Understandably dark circles sunk deep in under her eyes, making him feel even worse and still his tormentor wouldn't let up. "You've got to wonder what all this stress is doing to her and the baby. I mean especially as she had those miscarriages in the past… Timing isn't really one of your strong points though, is it House?"

Clenching his jaw, he instinctively rubbed his throbbing thigh. Usually right about now he'd be reaching for the Vicodin, but that was hardly an option right now.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, watching Cuddy lift her head and frown at him blankly.

"What for?"

"For this… For everything." He paused for a second and turned slightly to see Amber smirking at him, before turning back. "If this is too much… If you want us to end things, I'm not going to blame you."

"You seriously think I'm going to dump you now?" she asked incredulously, leaning forward in her chair and pulling her gown a little tighter around herself.

"I think it's probably for the best…" Feeling himself choke up, he swallowed a lump in his throat. "You need someone who can look after you, and right now I can't even look after myself… You deserve better."

"You're not thinking straight."

"Maybe not," he countered, determined to press on. "But that doesn't make what I'm saying any less true… I'm an addict and I'm about to lose my medical license. There's no guarantee that me going into rehab will work out… You'd be stupid to stay with me even if you didn't have Rachel and weren't pregnant."

"That's not your decision!"

There was an expectant pause as they glared at each other confrontationally.

"It can be."

Cuddy shook her head defiantly. He might believe he was doing the decent thing, but there was no way she was going to let him go that easily. They had a future mapped out together, and this obstacle was surmountable. It had to be.

Rising to her feet, she closed the gap between them and knelt down at the side of him, slipping her hand under the blanket and lacing her fingers through his.

"No… We're not breaking up again, so you can forget about it." Seeing him about to argue with her again, she reached up with her free hand and silenced him by running her finger soothingly along his jaw. "_No!_... I know you're scared that something bad is going to happen, but it's not. You're going to get better, we're going to have this baby and we're going to be a family."

"You can't know that," House contested, his brow furrowing as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. He didn't want this to end. Why would he possibly want this to end? But for once he had to put his own selfishness after what was right for her. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her because of him, whether it was intentional or not.

"I know I don't want to do this on my own, or with anybody else except you…. I also know that my stubborn ass of a boyfriend is capable of anything if he puts his mind to it."

Behind him he felt Amber lean towards him to speak to him again, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he swore he felt her breath on him.

"You don't need her. You don't need anybody. _You need Vicodin_… The second you go away she'll realise how much of a mistake this is…. Maybe she'll start crying on Wilson's shoulder, and who knows where that'll lead?... Deep down you know he still wants to punish you for what you did to me, and what better way than to take your girlfriend away from you like you did to him?..." She paused and moved in even closer. "You've got to admit him and her writhing around in your bed, whilst you're climbing up the walls in some locked room would be poetic justice, right?"

Screwing his eyes shut tightly as he tried to expunge the mental image, he knew he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Slowly opening them again, he saw Cuddy had recoiled and was instantly mortified. Cautiously he stretched his hand out and touched her cheek apologetically with the backs of his fingers. "I didn't mean you."

Seeing her eyes open wide in realisation, he knew she knew he was referring to Amber.

"She's still here?" He nodded pathetically. Straightening herself upright onto her knees again, she rested her forehead against his and ran her fingers through his hair. "She'll be gone soon, and in the mean time you're going to focus on me… She's not real. Whatever she's telling you isn't real… What we have is." A tear fell from the corner of her eye and dripped between them onto the floor. Her heart was breaking for him. Yes, House was a difficult, complicated man, but he didn't deserve this kind of anguish. "I love you, and we're going to do whatever we have to to get through this. You hear me?"

"Yeah," he breathed, the emotion and relief palpable in the shakiness of his voice. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he kissed her cheek realising how pointless and miserable his existence would be if she wasn't a part of his life anymore. "I love you too, Partypants."

Sensing her smile into his neck, he did the same, instantly feeling a little lighter in spite of the constant, nagging pain in his thigh.

He was a natural pessimist, but Cuddy made him feel like anything was possible.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you to all you awesome people who took the time to read and leave a comment last time. It's much appreciated as ever._

_I'm skimming over House's time in Mayfield mostly. It will be mentioned in conversation, but in reality it would have been less of a homage to _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, _and more of a secure retreat where he could detox and talk to someone. Let's face it, 'Broken' would have made a great TV movie, but in terms of its relationship with the treatment of addiction and mental illness in real life, it plays to several clichés and consequently blows hard. Subsequently, writing a whole season around ways to keep two characters apart is just a bad idea.___

_These guys aren't mine sadly._

* * *

Rubbing her neck tiredly, Cuddy stepped into her office feeling pleased that she finally had a few minutes to herself. It was only midday, yet already her feet hurt and she'd had just about enough of the incompetence of some of her staff. The possibility of dismissals was on the table which was never something she relished, but if she had to be the bad guy for the sake of the hospital she would. The smooth running of the place often relied on her dolling out various reprimands.

Still thinking her situation over she happened to look up and saw her chair facing away towards the window, the back of someone's head visible over the back. Momentarily she thought her PA had let someone in until the said person span around and faced her whilst musing over a gossip magazine.

"I knew you secretly read this crap."

Disguising a smile, Cuddy pursed her lips.

"House, just because we're together doesn't give you the right to go through my stuff."

"Well it didn't stop me before we were together, so…"

Shrugging his shoulders he put the magazine down and looked at her expectantly.

"I was supposed to pick you up from Mayfield later."

"I kind of lied about when they were letting me out. I thought I'd surprise you."

Unable to hold back a grin any longer, she looked him over for the first time in six weeks. When they'd spoken on the phone every few days she'd offered to come and see him each time, but he'd point blank refused on every occasion. He hadn't given reasons why, in fact he'd said very little at all other than to ask how and she and Rachel were, nevertheless she knew it was because he thought seeing her would make being away even harder. For both of them even hanging up the phone, despite the long, charged pauses, was painful.

"What's with the buzz cut?" she inquired with a frown.

Amusedly he drummed his fingers on her desk.

"I thought I'd go for all the usual clichés. Come a little closer and you'll notice I'm wearing Eau de Institutionalisation…" Seeing the corners of her mouth twitch upwards even further he smiled back and let his gaze hover over the baby bump that was now clearly visible under her blouse. There really was no mistaking the fact she was pregnant now, and he felt an unmistakeable rush of pride. She was one hell of a sight for sore eyes, and furthermore she was his. "So are you going to say hello properly, or do I have to kidnap you and leave a ransom note for the Board.?"

Taking the hint Cuddy rounded the desk and stepped into his open arms after he stood up to greet her, the pair of them relishing their first contact in weeks. With her head against his chest and his arms wrapped around her, he seemed so much more solid than the last time she'd seen him. Sure that was perhaps down to the physical therapy he'd been encouraged to undertake at Mayfield, but it was more than that. The night she'd found him in the nursery he'd seemed so fragile that she'd almost been frightened to touch him in case he splintered into a thousand pieces. Now he seemed so much stronger, mentally and physically.

"You look good," she whispered, holding onto him even more tightly.

"I feel good… You feel better." Gently he pecked the top of her head and then dropped his chin there.

"You've been in a confined space for six weeks. Right now if you saw Nurse Jeffrey in a dress, you'd probably think he looked hot."

"He does have a nice ass," House retorted with mock seriousness. "Crappy kisser though."

In response Cuddy craned her neck back to look at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Really?"

"Really!... It's a good job I hooked up with someone with superior skills."

Before she could answer he claimed her mouth, almost shyly at first as if he was reacquainting himself with her by nibbling on her lip and moving his fingers slowly through her hair. Emboldened by an appreciative moan he intensified the kiss, searching out her tongue with his own and sliding his hand further down her back. Abruptly Cuddy pulled away making him growl in frustration and look down at her questioningly.

Grabbing his wrist from behind her she pulled it back around, and delicately placed his hand on her abdomen.

"Looks like I'm not the only one to be excited about having you back home."

From the other side he felt a gentle, intermittent pressure against his palm and smirked.

"This is actually Morse code… He says he wants pizza, a hooker and subscription to HBO when he pops out."

Jovially Cuddy smacked his arm in a playful rebuke.

"We don't know if it's a boy yet." On purpose she'd waited to book her next scan. She wanted him there with her, and he had a right to share the experience.

Suddenly he grabbed her hand and began dragging her behind him out of the room, until she dug her heels into the carpet and forced him to stop.

"Where are we going?" the Dean of Medicine demanded, refusing to take another step towards the door.

"To find out the sex of the baby." His look of irritation turned to one of dismay. "Please tell me you're not one of those people who doesn't want to know until it's born."

"Of course I do, but I'm already booked in next week…. We can't do this now!"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "It's lunchtime. There's bound to be a free room and ultrasound somewhere."

Cuddy sighed. Things were always so straight forward with House.

"You're not insured to use any of the equipment anymore."

"I'm hardly going to break it!" he quipped back, rolling his eyes. He wanted to do this now, and he couldn't understand why she was standing in their way.

"That's not the point!"

Unwilling to start a full scale argument a matter of minutes after he'd got back, but determined he wasn't going to back down completely, he realised he'd have to compromise.

"Fine!... We'll grab Auntie Wilson on the way."

* * *

Ten minutes later they'd found an empty exam room. Cuddy was laid down on the couch with her blouse and skirt adjusted so her belly was exposed enough for the scan to take place, as Wilson switched on the machine and House fumbled around looking for the gel. Finding the bottle he shook it and turned to his girlfriend, holding it aloft.

"Ketchup?"

"Wilson is supposed to be doing this," she responded curtly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

Ignoring her he turned the bottle upside down from a height, smirking gleefully at the squelching sound the gel made as it left the bottle and dropped onto her abdomen. He was genuinely happy that they were about to see their baby again. He'd thought about little else other than his expanding family during the endlessly long days he'd spent in rehab. Now this felt a little like finally being able to open your Christmas presents after months of knowing you were getting a bike. Thoughtfully he glanced down at the blobs of gel on her stomach and stuck his tongue firmly in his cheek.

"You know this looks a lot like the lube we…"

At once Cuddy sat up partially and scowled at him.

"Either behave yourself or you can wait outside!"

"Yes Mom!" House shot back sarcastically, making the man opposite him on the other side of the couch gulp back a chuckle. It really was as if his best friend had never been away.

"Have you two finished?" the oncologist inquired with feigned indignation, drawing an apology from Cuddy. Placing the transducer on her stomach he spread the gel over her bump, as all three of them looked to the monitor. Almost straight away they all heard the loud, even thumping. "Hearbeat's strong."

Without glancing back 'the patient' grabbed her boyfriend's hand and squeezed tightly, staring at the screen in amazement as her baby's legs wriggled around giving her a fluttering sensation. If Wilson hadn't been in the room she'd probably have cried, instead she bit her lip and tightened her grip on House's fingers.

Above her he leant forward and squinted.

"Unless the kid's learnt to tuck it under already I'm pretty sure that's a girl."

"Yeah," Wilson agreed, turning and smiling at them both.

Suddenly Cuddy panicked.

"Is that ok?"

"I'm not sure they do exchanges."

Her brow furrowed a little deeper as she looked at him.

"I'm serious."

"It's great… I mean I may have traded my man cave in for a house full of women, but at least I can sleep in on weekends when you take them to ballet or shoe shopping, or whatever it is girls do." Seeing she still wasn't convinced, he sighed. "I'm happy! She's healthy and by the looks sucking her thumb. Everything else is irrelevant."

"You're sure?" she asked again, sitting up and rubbing away the gel with the paper towels Wilson had handed her.

"Yes!"

Finally she smiled.

"Good."

"Congratulations!" the oncologist chirped up. "A girl is great… _Really great!_"

As if on cue House begrudgingly pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed a ten dollar bill on the palm of his friend's upturned hand, muttering something under his breath as Wilson grinned triumphantly.

"You two made a bet on the gender of the baby?" Cuddy asked incredulously, the annoyance seeping through in her tone as she looked from one man to the other.

House nodded.

"Yup!... In our defence so has the rest of the hospital… I hear Taub has a hundred dollars on you giving birth to the Anti-Christ."

Tucking her blouse back into her skirt the Dean of Medicine jumped off the couch with half a mind just to leave them to it. It was bad enough she felt like she'd lost control of her body without the thought of everybody who worked for her scrutinizing her too. Worse still, the father of her child was in on it as well, but this was classic House. Always an ulterior motive.

"I'm glad our baby is the source of so much interest and amusement… I need to go back to work."

As she pushed passed him to make her exit, House grabbed her arm and leisurely pulled her back.

"You've still got another half hour left."

She shrugged indifferently.

"You've settled your bet now so I don't see the point in me being here."

"You're pissed?"

"You've noticed?" she spat back sardonically, more eager than ever to leave the room. Arguing in front of their mutual friend was hardly way up her list of priorities right now.

"Hey," House said softly, delicately tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Stubbornly she refused to look at him and glared at the floor, until his fingers cupped under her chin and lifted her head allowing his steely blue eyes to burn into hers. "We're having a baby girl."

The corners of his mouth ticked upwards as he seemed to light up from the inside out. Her boyfriend was a great liar, but this wasn't fake. His expression was one of pure joy.

"A little sister for Rachel," she whispered back, her own features beginning to reflect his genuine excitement. There was so much still to do before the baby came, but now they were better informed it would make things easier. In that instant their child, _their daughter_, seemed to become a whole lot more real.

"I know. Cool huh?"

Cheekily he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she kissed him in a long, lingering embrace that made Wilson shift his feet uncomfortably on the spot and wish he could evaporate into thin air. Eventually he coughed, making them break apart.

"I'll leave you guys to it…. You've got a lot of catching up to do."

"No, wait!" Cuddy responded just as he went to move, glancing up at her boyfriend mischievously. "House is going to buy us both lunch, and I'm going to figure out the most painful way to disembowel Taub."

* * *

Letting his book fall onto his lap as he sat up in bed, House removed his readers and watched Cuddy leave the bathroom in her shorts and vest top, her hand flying up to her mouth as she stifled a yawn and padded over to the bed, climbing in next to him. More or less all night he'd waited to get her on her own. She'd invited Wilson over for dinner and after several subtle attempts to try and get rid of him after they'd finished the meal, he'd resorted to a much more blunt request for his friend to go when his girlfriend was out of earshot. With a knowing smile the oncologist had made his excuses and left, Rachel had been put to bed and here they were: alone at last.

Smiling to himself, he set his book down on the nightstand and swiftly snuck under the covers, shuffling closer to her and then straddling her legs. Just as his fingers tucked into the hem of her shorts he felt the sheets above him lift and saw a pair of inquisitive eyes staring down at him.

"What are you doing?" She didn't look particularly annoyed, perhaps more bemused than anything else.

"I believe in most cultures they call this foreplay… Now that we've cleared that up…" Again his head dipped and he planted a kiss on her bump, before refocusing his attention slowly inching down her shorts.

"House we need to talk."

"My mouth's gonna be kind of busy for the foreseeable future."

To emphasise his point he gently nuzzled her newly exposed hip, smirking into her skin as he felt her involuntarily shiver against him.

"Please," Cuddy insisted, her hand reaching between them and tilting his head up to look at her again. "This is important. We haven't really had a chance to have a proper conversation since you got back, and you barely spoke to me when you were in Mayfield… There's things that need saying, discussing."

With a reluctant sigh House rolled onto his side of the bed and laid on his back glowering at the ceiling, his curled up fist rubbing backwards and forwards against his forehead. He hadn't wanted to do this now. In fact he'd wanted to put 'the talk' off for as long as possible, and lose himself in her for a while.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Turning onto her side, she saw how tense he was and placed a placatory hand on his chest, her index finger making comforting circles on the flesh underneath his t-shirt.

"Do you like the house?... I bought some new furniture, but if you don't like any of it we can change it."

Whilst he'd been gone her house had sold surprisingly quickly and there seemed to be little point to holding fire on the move. He'd told her as much over the phone. Nevertheless it still made her nervous. Them officially moving in together was a big deal, especially in light of who they were. Neither of them liked change, and yet it had seemed necessary. Surely getting away from the place where he'd hallucinated Amber had been the right thing to do? Her old place held bad memories for them both now, and this was a chance for a fresh start.

"The house is great." He turned his head slightly and smiled at her. "It's all great."

For a little while there was a comfortable silence as he dropped his hand onto hers.

"You don't have to make any decisions now, but what do you want to do about work?... If you want to get your license back I'll happily support you. Initially you'd have to come back as a consultant and work under Foreman, but it'd be a temporary formality."

House shrugged.

"The way I see it I've got two options. Either I go into research, or I go back to PPTH and continue to stare at my boss' ass and terrorize my team. It's kind of a no-brainer."

"It's risky," Cuddy said cautiously. She had no intention of putting him off if that was what he wished to do, she wanted him back working for her, but they had to weigh the pros and cons. "You'll be surrounded by drugs all day long."

Her boyfriend took a deep breath and appeared to be pondering what she'd said, before finally answering.

"Whether I'm a doctor or not, if I was desperate to get hold of Vicodin I could do it anyway." Instantly he saw his girlfriend's face drop and felt the need to clarify. "I just meant that I'm never going to be in a completely safe situation. If I wanted to get high I could, but right now I've got no reason to… My leg hurts, but it always fucking hurts and I don't want to go back there. Under no fucking circumstances do I want to go back there." Pausing to calm himself down again, he wound his fingers tightly around hers. "It's not just about me anymore."

Hearing him say that, Cuddy felt a lump developing in her throat and gulped it back. She hated the thought of him going through rehab on his own. From a medical point of view she was well aware what detoxing put the body through; the aches, the sweats, the vomiting, but the reality of someone she loved going through that was a thousand times worse.

"I wish I could have been there for you."

"You couldn't," he replied simply. "It was something I had to do without you or Wilson holding my hand for once."

Extracting her hand from his, she reached up and ghosted her fingertips over his cheek.

"You have no idea how proud I am of you."

Avoiding eye contact House looked away. He'd never been able to take praise or a compliment particularly well, in truth he wasn't used to it. Either he pissed people off so regularly as a matter of course that they weren't always ready to share in his victories, or he'd actively avoid the plaudits he deserved because it made him uncomfortable.

"I shouldn't have let things get that bad," he mumbled, continuing to stare at the antique wardrobe across the room.

"Neither should I."

Confused he glanced up at her, and frowned.

"None of this was your fault."

"Whoever's fault it was I'm glad you're home. This place is kind of big for just me and Rachel." Shuffling down the bed, she scooted closer to him and leant her head on his shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too… And the ankle biter."

"Really?" Cuddy inquired, genuinely surprised. She'd desperately wanted her boyfriend to bond with her adopted daughter, but she hadn't pushed the issue since the night he'd turned up on her doorstep to hand her his resignation.

"Yeah… Strange how you miss a baby crying when you're surrounded by grown men doing the same thing."

Not entirely surprised, his girlfriend smiled to herself. In spite of trying to cover it up with a joke, it was clear he was being sincere and not just trying to appease her.

"She missed you too… She kept on looking around to see if you were there."

"Oh bullshit!" he countered cordially. "She's five months old. She was probably looking for her next meal."

"Which doesn't explain why she started grinning the second she heard your voice tonight." Playfully she nudged his side. "Face it you miserable ass, Rachel likes you!"

Inwardly he couldn't help but feel pleased. The possibility of the little girl not taking to him had been something that had worried him since they'd gotten together. With one less strain on their relationship he was genuinely relieved.

"I guess I am irresistible to the Cuddy women after all, which reminds me…" Stealthily he reached under the covers and palmed her backside, instantly disappointed when the object of his groping moved his hand to more neutral ground on her side.

"Uh-uh! Not tonight, Romeo… I'm exhausted."

"Seriously?"

"Selfishly I'd like to be conscious when we do have sex."

In response House shook his head and tutted in faux indignation.

"You modern women are so demanding!... Next you'll be burning your bra and causing a fire hazard."

"Insulting me is not going to help your cause," she laughed, craning her head up and regarding the eyebrow that was travelling up his forehead.

"I'm not above begging."

"Believe me, I know," she responded salaciously, drawing a dejected groan from him. "I'll call Julia in the morning and see if she can take Rachel over the weekend… We should probably spend some time alone before things get crazy anyway. Is that ok?"

House snorted.

"You're offering me a dirty weekend, and then asking me if that's ok?"

"I thought maybe we could at least make it out of the house once or twice. You know go on a date, or maybe head to the park for a picnic."

"There are two main flaws in that plan," House retorted matter-of-factly. "Firstly, that would involve encountering other people, which is just pointless and completely unnecessary. And secondly you'd have to wear clothes, which is again pointless and unnecessary."

"So basically you want to stay in bed, eat pizza and have sex for two days?"

"Pretty much," he nodded in agreement. "Although we could try and mix things up a little by changing rooms every few hours."

For a long time Cuddy just stared at him, eventually shrugging her shoulders in acceptance. Being holed up for forty eight hours with the boyfriend who she hadn't seen for six weeks really didn't seem like such a bad idea at all.

"Ok."

"Cool!"

"Can I go to sleep now?" she inquired, her eyes starting to feel impossibly heavy and closing of their own accord.

"Sure."

Reaching behind her, Cuddy turned off her lamp and House followed suit, the pair of them then moulding their bodies around one another. Within a couple of minutes he felt her weigh heavier on his chest and he knew she'd dozed off, leaving him alone with his thoughts as he gazed at the ceiling, his eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness.

As much as so many things still scared him, he knew for certain he wouldn't rather be anywhere else.


	10. Chapter 10

_Can't thank everyone enough who read and reviewed last week. I'm so happy you're sticking with it, and mildly amused that this originally started out its life as a two-shot. We are however rapidly approaching the business end of things now. _

_Major props to the 'Fic Pimp' for naming and determining the gender of the baby. No doubt she'll have an opinion on how much it should weigh too. ;)_

_Nope. Not mine._

* * *

For a good minute Cuddy panicked when she woke up and found the bed next to her empty. It wasn't something she could help. The last time that had happened she'd found him slumped in the nursery, trying to banish a seemingly very real hallucination in his weak physical and mental state. She wanted to have more faith that he was stronger than that, but the truth was addicts were most likely to relapse in the first forty-eight hours after they left a secure environment. Perhaps the temptation had been too much for him, and he'd gone in search of the very thing that had turned his life upside down, in spite of everything he'd said last night. In the cold, harsh light of day things often seemed different. Less rosy.

With her stomach doing somersaults she got up and walked to Rachel's room, finding the door ajar and seeing her daughter sound asleep in the cot. Next to her, either side of the rocking chair, she noticed an empty bottle and a used diaper and breathed a sigh of relief. Obviously he'd fed and changed her and never had she been happier that her boyfriend had a serious problem with cleaning up after himself. Within seconds, as she tiptoed in the kitchen and dealt with both items, she looked through the window and saw him out in the garden, sat on the ground and pulling handfuls of grass out of the overgrown lawn, before allowing each individual blade to fall in between his fingertips. Evidently he wanted time to himself, so she left him to it.

A little over an hour later she stepped outside and wandered over to the tree, where House was perched on one of the two swings that had recently been hung over one of the thicker branches, and was swaying backwards and forwards. Reaching him, she hung onto the ropes and sat down on the second wooden seat next to him.

"You wanted a swing and you got two. I couldn't bear the thought of you and Wilson fighting over it."

With a slight grin, he stilled himself and looked at her. Obviously she was thinking ahead to when the Rachel and the baby were older.

"Who did it?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"I got talking to one of our neighbours. Turns out her husband used to be a carpenter and he was at a loose end… He did a good job."

Tugging at the ropes as if to verify that, House eventually nodded in agreement.

"They're cool."

"I didn't think you'd get up before lunchtime."

"Rehab kind of messed with my body clock," House explained half seriously. "Hopefully normal services will be resumed shortly."

"You should have come in and said hi to Julia. She just took Rachel."

He knew she'd been there. He'd heard voices in the house and automatically assumed that was the case, but at the time he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do less.

"And deal with her asking if I'm ok, when really she's trying to figure out if I'm safe to be around her sister and her niece?" Seeing his girlfriend about to protest, he went on. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Realising she couldn't contradict him, Cuddy simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Since when did you care about what my sister thinks?"

For what seemed to be a long time he didn't answer, all of his attention appearing to be focused on unearthing a weed underfoot with the toe of his sneaker.

"I don't, but all of this is a big deal… You, me, a house, two kids. That's before you factor in us working together and the small matter of me being a recovering addict… I was with Stacy for five years and we didn't even buy a place together."

Instantly his girlfriend began to worry. Was this all too much for him? Was he backing away from her again?

"Is this not what you want?" she inquired cautiously. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if he said no, but the question needed to be asked.

"Of course it's what I want!... It's just huge. There's so many things that can go wrong."

Feeling the need to touch him, Cuddy reached out and placed her hand on top of his, the soothing contact placating her just as much as him.

"It scares me too… I have a long history of relationships that barely ever made it past the first few dates, but this feels right. Nothing did before. Not really… Being frightened that you're going to screw things up when something matters this much is normal."

"Your definition of screwing up and mine are like the difference between a kid throwing a water bomb and Hiroshima." He paused and bit his lip before going on. "I have a long, long history of living down to people's expectations."

"People adapt to situations. They grow, they…"

"What?" he interrupted, apparently amused. "Change?"

Ignoring his smugness, she continued to elaborate on her point.

"Maybe… Or maybe they just stop being the people they think they have to be, and allow themselves to become who they really are… Letting other people in isn't necessarily a sign of weakness."

Bemused, House raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

"Since when did my girlfriend turn into Dr. Phil?"

"When I hired you I always knew what you were capable of."

"You hired me because you knew I was great in bed."

"You're right," she conceded sarcastically, throwing her hands up in the air in jovial exasperation. He was deflecting, which was hardly new for him, but she hoped some of what she was saying was sinking in. "My original plan was to pimp you out to prospective donors, but when you started saving lives I changed my mind."

Laughing he grabbed hold of her hand again and they sat in a comfortable silence, both basking in the early morning sun and surveying the garden; simultaneously thinking it was currently a mess, but that it had potential.

"We had a garden like this when my Dad was based in Egypt," he finally ventured quietly, letting the sentence hang in the air for a second or two. Surprised that he was mentioning his Father and his past in general, Cuddy opted not to say anything and let him divulge as much as he wanted at his own pace. "My Mom had a vegetable patch near the veranda, and there was a tree like this one… I used to climb it all the time, because the view at the top was awesome. I'd look down on everything and everyone and I felt like Superman."

"How old were you?"

"Ten, maybe eleven… I fell one day. Slipped on the last couple of branches before the bottom. No serious damage, just a few cuts and bruises. I went in to get some TLC from my Mom, but my Dad had come back on leave. Instead of sympathy I got backhanded for being stupid, and told that if I climbed it again he'd beat the crap out of me."

Without needing to ask where this was going, she did anyway, even if the very thought made her feel nauseous.

"What happened?"

"I was determined he wasn't going to stop me, so I climbed it again the next day… He watched me from the window for hours. Just waiting there, cracking his knuckles once every so often as a warning… I stayed up there for hours until I got tired and started to get frightened I'd fall out. When I went back in he rolled up his sleeves and laced into me. Split my lip, bruised a couple of ribs and gave me a black eye."

"And your Mom did nothing?" Cuddy asked in disbelief, her anger making her body quake.

He shrugged and looked away towards the fence.

"Things were different back then. He was supporting us both."

"And that makes it ok?"

That he didn't seem to see how despicable the violence and neglect he'd suffered made her even more pissed. Now so many things fell into place: his lifelong habit of pushing people away, his pessimistic view of relationships, and of course him losing his temper with Blythe the night they'd told their parents that she was pregnant.

"Every time he did it Mom told me it wouldn't happen again… We both knew it wasn't true. People don't change. They are who they are."

"Your Dad was a dinosaur, who covered up being a conceited bully by pretending he had principles. He didn't. He was just a coward…. You are not your Dad!" He turned back around to face her, his expression inscrutable. "You might have the most irritating habit of telling people things they don't want to hear, but being honest, even if you know it's not going to make you popular, is brave… Going through what you've just been through is brave… He may have been a Marine with tons of medals, but you are ten times the man he ever was."

House's reaction to her words was subtle, just a slight fluttering of his eyelashes and a quiet release of air from his lungs, but it was still obvious what she'd said meant something to him. Even if his response was restrained, Cuddy could practically feel the relief radiating off him.

Eventually he smiled.

"I have no idea why we're paying Nolan so much when I've got my own personal shrink at home for free."

"Who says I'm free?"

"Sexual favours again, huh_?"_

"Later maybe," she retorted coyly, her hand dropping to her stomach and instinctively rubbing it in circles. "First me and the bump need some breakfast."

* * *

Wandering down the hall and into the living room in just his pyjama bottoms, House blinked against the remainder of the evening sunshine filtering through the blind and absently scratched his head. Turning towards the kitchen he saw Cuddy leant over the counter reading something, and craned his neck to the side to get a better look at her bare legs, the pink shirt of his that she'd borrowed only just skimming the tops of her thighs and affording him an extremely pleasant view. Silently sneaking up behind her he snaked his hands under the fabric, and ran his fingertips over the silky skin he found underneath.

"You're awake then?" she asked, leaning back into him. "My ears were bleeding from all the snoring so I fled to safety."

Kissing her shoulder he settled his arms tightly around her torso.

"I'm an old man. I need my beauty sleep… What are you reading?"

"Julia left a book of baby names this morning. I called her from work to tell her about us having a girl after the scan yesterday, and her and my Mom spent last night underlining suitable ones… How about Miriam? My Mom's underlined that one and put two stars next to it."

"We want this kid to like us, right?"

Cuddy snorted and continued to flick through the pages.

"Sarah?... Apparently it means princess."

"My Mom had a friend called Sarah... She smelt of urine, wore dungarees and drank gin all the time."

"Any great ideas then, smartass?"

"Plenty," he responded, once again slipping his hands under the shirt she was wearing and gently cupping her breasts. "But they don't involve picking out possible baby names."

Sensing something hard nudging into her, Cuddy turned to look at him and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Again?"

"In case you were getting nervous I can confirm that the penis-shaped thing digging into your back is not a gun." Pushing her hair out of the way, he nuzzled into her and relished the fresh scent of her shower gel on her warm skin, thinking if it were possible he'd happily live in the juncture between her neck and her shoulder blade. "Besides when the stimulus is this good who can blame me?"

Without warning Cuddy pulled his hands away from her and span around to face him, the frown etched on her features instantly making him worry.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't, it's just… You really find me attractive like this?"

Anxiously she grazed her lip and regarded him hesitantly.

"I think the last two times we had sex today should probably answer that question for you."

Clearly not entirely convinced by his attempt to appease her, she looked down at her baby bump and pouted.

"I'm starting to feel like a beached whale."

"You're pregnant not fat!"

"I have stretch marks."

House grunted in frustration. As annoying as her perfectionism was when she forced it onto other people, it irritated the hell out of him when she internalised her own impossibly high standards and beat herself up for absolutely no reason.

"And I have a huge hole in my leg. Has that ever stopped you from being attracted to me?"

"No," she answered honestly. What happened to his leg after the infarction had always made her protective of him, but long before they'd gotten together it never hindered the physical attraction. Even when he was at his most obnoxious, her libido as far as he was concerned seemed to work independently of her common sense.

"Well then... Generally pregnant women gross me out, but you carrying my baby is hot." Unashamedly he looked her up and down until his eyes finally met hers. "_Right now you are seriously hot._"

Almost shyly she gave him a lopsided grin.

"I guess it's good to know I'm not going to have to kick you out of the maternity ward when you come back to work."

"No," he said brazenly, taking closer to her and flattening his palms either side of her on the counter, effectively trapping her in front of him. "But you are going to have to consider locking your office door more often, because I'm going to have a real problem keeping my hands off you."

"Sexually harassing your boss is a bad idea."

"Really?"

"Really."

Seeing the blush begin to redden her cheeks as he leant forward and paused a couple of inches from her face, he knew he had her just where he wanted her. The way she was licking her lips and alternating her gaze between his eyes and his mouth was proof that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, which never failed to amaze and surprise him.

"I'll take my chances."

Picking his girlfriend up, he sat her on the wooden surface and stepped in between her legs, fumbling with the buttons on the shirt as he kissed her and felt her nails raking down his back. Breaking away briefly he slipped the material down her shoulders and removed it entirely, balling it up impatiently and throwing it behind him, before refocusing his attention on lavishing delicate kisses on her sensitive breasts and smoothing his hand up the inside of her thigh.

"We should go back to bed," Cuddy breathed in his ear, not entirely sure if her sentence had come out coherently.

"What's wrong with here?" he retorted, moving her panties to one side and grinning to himself when he felt how wet she was. Hearing her moan when he slipped a finger inside her, he looked up and his heart almost stopped beating. As if she was concentrating on the sensation his girlfriend had thrown her head back and closed her eyes in an unaffected display pleasure. With anybody else he'd probably have lost all self-control and dragged them onto the floor, but he wanted her to enjoy this. Slotting another finger inside her and dancing his thumb over her clit, he watched her instant reaction in awe.

"House," she whimpered, clutching onto the counter and bucking her hips towards him. "I need you."

Resting his forehead against hers, he ran his other hand supportively along her side, feeling the tension in her body and realising just how close she was.

"In a second." Seeing her this worked up, he found his own breath catching in the back of his throat. He was so turned on now it was practically painful, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. "Come for me."

Watching her arch backwards as her whole body began to shake, he heard her swear and waited for her to come back down. Gently moving his hand away from her, he pulled her forward to rest on his shoulder.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," Cuddy managed, her breathing gradually returning to normal. "Better than ok."

"Good, because I am ridiculously horny right now."

Taking her by surprise, he crossed her legs behind him and grabbed her off the counter, cautiously turning around with her and making his way towards the sofa, doing his best to ignore the protestations from his thigh.

"House if you drop me…"

"You'll land on your ass and be absolutely fine," he interrupted, laughing at the resulting smack to his arm and kissing her cheek affectionately as they sunk down onto the soft piece of furniture.

For a while they simply made out, his immediate sense of urgency calmed slightly by the exertion of transporting them both to the living room, but soon enough he was silently pleading with her and instinctively she knew.

Without a word Cuddy got up and slipped off her panties and then gestured for her boyfriend to lift his hips, before inching them down and off altogether, her gaze unabashedly dropping to his impressive erection before she straddled him again. Within seconds they were joined, neither willing to prolong the agony of needing each that much any longer, her movements and his complementing each other in an easy, well-rehearsed short-hand. Minutes later they were both hurtling towards the edge, lips and teeth meeting skin as she clung to his neck and he grabbed her ass possessively, his resolve finally breaking as she clamped down around him.

"I love you," she murmured, the tip of her nose rubbing against his as they both fought to compose themselves again.

Still in a bit of a daze, House didn't respond straight away, an unfamiliar feeling distracting and unnerving him in equal measure. He was happy. Not just content or comfortable, but really happy. Cupping his girlfriend's chin he tilted her head up so he could focus on her properly, the sudden attention causing her brow to furrow in confusion.

"What's up?"

"Nothing… It's just… I love you too much to lose you. I couldn't deal with it."

The sincerity and rawness of the confession stunned them both. Noticing the shock on her face, he panicked and turned away. Freaking her out had been the last thing he'd intended, but then he wasn't entirely sure what had been his intention. At Mayfield his psychiatrist had encouraged him to open up with those he cared about, and in that precise instant he wished Nolan had kept his advice to himself.

"You idiot!" Cuddy eventually chimed back, holding his jaw and forcing him to turn his face back and look at her again. "You think I don't need you too, don't you?"

House shrugged. With everything that had happened recently it felt like their relationship had been a one-way street, him being a constant drain on her resources.

"I don't know."

"When you walk into the same room, everything lights up... Even if you're trying your hardest to piss me off, things click into place for me whenever you're around…. Do you have any idea how much I needed to hear your voice every time you called from Mayfield?" Watching his forehead crease with emotion, it was obvious he'd felt the same way. Those six weeks of separation had been painful for both of them, and easily the longest period of time they hadn't seen each other since the day he'd walked into her office asking for a job. Romantically involved or not, they'd always gravitated towards one another. "Without you everything just feels like I'm going through the motions… Without you I sure as hell wouldn't be where I am now."

"Logistically that would be a problem," he cracked, glancing down where they were still joined and smirking at her cheekily.

Rolling her eyes she twisted herself around and settled down next to him, pulling the throw over them both as her head found his shoulder. Things still needed to be said without other distractions.

"I mean it… Before we started trying for the baby I'd given up and I was miserable. I'd convinced myself that work was all I needed, but you saw through that… Losing Joy broke my heart, but you were the only one who had the balls to tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself… Without you I wouldn't have Rachel, and I wouldn't have dared to try and get pregnant again."

"You don't know that."

"I really do," Cuddy shot back with certainty, her hand tugging his towards her bump under the covers. "I'm happier than I've ever been and that's because of you… I'd be insane to walk away from what we have now."

"People already think you're crazy for staying with me."

"I don't care… They don't know you like I do."

Delicately House kissed her forehead and lay his cheek on the top of her head, glancing around the room at the various touches Cuddy had added to the blank canvas after she'd moved in. Aside from his piano over in the corner, nothing had the same comforting familiarity of his apartment, and yet the place as a whole was growing on him by the second. Domesticity, being in a loving, committed and successful relationship and becoming a Father were all elements of his future that seemed to loom over him threateningly before. Now he felt ready to embrace them. Being with the right woman had done that for him, and as much it negated his natural repugnance for the type of sentimentality that sent most people gooey-eyed, in that moment he knew without question that Lisa Cuddy was 'the one' for him. In his wildest dreams he was never going to find another woman like her.

"What about Jessica?"

"For the baby?"

"No, as a nickname for Wilson," he joked, slinging his other arm around her casually as they sat in the now dusky light of the early evening. "If you don't like it we can think of something else."

"No I like it," she admitted as she snuggled further into him. "I like it a lot."


	11. Chapter 11

_As ever your support for this story has been awesome. Many, many thanks to everybody who has read, reviewed, favourited and alerted in the last week._

_Nothing belongs to me except for 'the bump'._

* * *

"Wilson's seeing someone!" House declared as he swung open the door to Cuddy's office.

With a sigh she continued sorting out various papers and put them into folder she could look over at home. It had just turned six 'o' clock and the last thing she needed today was another Wilson-related crisis that was only actually a crisis in the eyes of her boyfriend. Somewhere children were starving and lives were being lost in wars. Hell, people were more likely than not fighting for their lives a matter of a few hundred feet away from them. In stark contrast, the Head of her Oncology department dating someone was not the end of the World.

"And I'm supposed to respond to this how exactly?... Delight? Dismay?"

Ignoring her curt tone he flopped down onto the sofa in the corner, and began twirling his cane between his fingers as if he was deep in thought; the exact same pose she'd found him in on numerous occasions when he was working through the intricacies of a case.

"I asked him about it and he denied it, but he did that weird eye twitchy thing he does when he has a good hand when we play poker."

"Maybe he wants some privacy."

"No," he responded, pursing his lips as if she'd just said the most stupid thing he'd ever heard. "He thinks he wants that, but then he'll propose, end up in another disastrous marriage and then mope around for six months… I need to nip things in the bud."

At the end of her tether, Cuddy exploded.

"For God's sake, leave him alone!"

Straight away House snapped his head in her direction and saw exactly how aggravated she really was. But why? The anger in her voice and demeanour had left him utterly perplexed. Shifting awkwardly in his seat under her scrutiny, he frowned at her.

"You're pissed with me because of this?"

"I'm pissed with you because you have no respect for people's personal boundaries."

At once everything clicked into place for him, and he suddenly knew exactly what this was about. Admittedly the comments he'd made to a couple of trainee doctors while she extolled the virtues of adequately filling out a patient's paperwork hadn't necessarily been his finest hour, but he thought it had been dealt with when she'd given him a dressing down straight afterwards. Evidently it hadn't.

"This is about earlier, isn't it?... Oh come on! You're overreacting!"

"Yeah because you telling a bunch of med students what underwear I'm wearing, and divulging elements of our sex life, is really a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation during a training session."

"I was bored!" he replied defensively.

"You were an ass!" Dropping a few files in her outbox, Cuddy ran her hand along her face tiredly and let out a deep breath. He'd been back at work for three days, and already they were clashing. "I know this whole situation is difficult, but nobody else is prepared to supervise you while you get your license back."

"Well maybe if you signed me off this wouldn't be a problem."

"That would be illegal."

"Because you've never done anything like that before."

"Not through choice!" she spat back, feeling the anger barrelling through her once more. That he'd even dared to bring up her perjuring herself for his benefit as an example in his favour was beyond audacious. "We're both going to have to grin and bear this until it's over and things get back to normal."

"This is stupid!"

"This is necessary!"

Peeved that she wasn't going to back down, House leant back and folded his arms across himself protectively. He genuinely didn't see the point of being subjected to hour after hour of boredom 'retraining' when he could be devoting his time between his real patients and making doing nothing look hard.

"If there aren't any perks to screwing the boss, then what's the point?" As soon as the comment left his mouth the atmosphere in the room turned cold. Unwilling to engage with him anymore his girlfriend got up from her chair, grabbed her things and strode over to get her jacket from near the door, her whole being demonstrating that she was positively seething. Realising how ill-received what he'd just said had been, he felt the need to backpedal. "Cuddy, that was a joke!"

"I don't care," she shrugged, pulling her coat over shoulders. "I've had enough of your bullshit today. You can make your own way home."

"What am I supposed to do? My bike's back at the house."

"Call a cab, bribe someone to give you a lift. You're a grown man, I'm sure you can figure something out." Coldly she looked him square in the eye and grasped the door handle in front of her. "I just know if I have to spend any amount of time in an enclosed space with you right now, I probably won't be responsible for my actions… Don't rush back."

With that she opened the door and walked through it, leaving him alone in the dimly lit office.

* * *

On her way back from the bathroom, Cuddy heard the front door open and close and hung back in the corridor, looking on as House limped heavily into the living room, looked around and then dumped a bunch of flowers and a small box on the coffee table. Aware of the noise around her Rachel, groused in her bouncer chair where her Mom had left her momentarily. Responding to her whimpers he picked her up, settling them both down on the sofa without so much as a moan or a grumble that she'd hampered whatever he'd planned on doing when he got back. In fact he seemed to be pleased to see her, in spite of the type of day he'd had.

From a distance she continued watching their interactions, him issuing an over the top greeting as the little girl chuckled at the various faces he was pulling and reached out to run her hand over his cheek and beard, her small face distinctly displaying her curiosity as the texture under her fingertips changed from smooth to rough. He'd been a huge pain in the ass at work earlier, but she couldn't fault the leaps and bounds he'd taken with Rachel at home. This wasn't just tolerance for the sake of the relationship. It was plain to see that he was now emotionally bound up with the child he was holding, and vice versa.

"You going to stand there all night and spy on me?" he eventually asked, craning his neck back and glancing at her as she leant against the wall. "It's kind of creepy."

Turning the corner she walked over to them, and tucked one leg under herself as she sat next to him, running the back of her hand over her daughter's rosy cheek.

"She's teething."

"Given her any Tylenol?"

"Not that long ago. I think it's finally kicking in… She's also pretty pleased to see you."

"What about you?" he asked quietly, barely daring to look in her direction, before re-focusing his attention on the tiny hand that was gripping his finger.

"I half expected you to end up at a strip club and then sneak back in the house drunk in the middle of the night." She hesitated for a second and then went on. "I'm glad you didn't."

Part of him felt insulted that her mind had gone there, but really he had no comeback. For as long as she'd known him his M.O. had been to rely on whatever distraction he could when things got difficult, be it Vicodin, alcohol, scantily clad women dancing around poles or a combination of all three. What had actually happened tonight couldn't be any further from that.

"I sat in the cafeteria nursing a coffee until they kicked me out." He nodded towards the coffee table at the things he'd brought back with him. "Those are for you."

Hiding her amusement, Cuddy bit her lip. When he resorted to such obvious romantic gestures like this he really knew he was in trouble.

"Which patient did you steal the flowers from?"

"I didn't," he retorted seemingly tetchily. "I stole them from the courier who was bringing them into the hospital. The candy I bought all on my own…" He paused and scratched his head nervously. "It's my crappy attempt at an apology."

Grabbing the bouquet of roses from in front of her, she lifted them to her nose and enjoyed the floral scent. They were beautiful, even if the card taped to the side was addressed to someone called Helen. Placing them back on the table, she turned back to him and clasped Rachel's foot delicately, her touch raising a knowing smile from the baby.

"I'm still mad at you."

"But it's hard to stay really mad at me when I'm this adorable, right?" As if to emphasise his point he pushed his bottom lip out and fluttered his eyelashes. Enthralled with his new expression Rachel reached up and began to pull his lip out even further to the point it became painful. "Ow!"

Watching him gently extract the little girl's hand from his face, Cuddy chuckled.

"You are an ass."

Pretending to be shocked House covered Rachel's ears, causing the child to look around her keenly.

"Do we really want those to be our daughter's first words?" Seeing his girlfriend regard him curiously, he frowned. "What?"

"You said _our _daughter."

"No I didn't." He suspected he had, but there was no way he was going to complicate the situation between them this evening. A slip of the tongue wasn't necessarily a big problem, but the ambiguous nature of her response had him worried. Maybe in her eyes he was never really going to be a proper father figure to her adopted daughter.

"You did."

"It was a mistake."

"Was it?" Cuddy inquired, observing him squirm in the seat next to her. If she was honest it made her a little nervous too. There'd been so many roadblocks in their relationship in the last few months that they hadn't actually thrashed out the minute details of what form his relationship with Rachel would take. The mere thought of Rachel growing up and feeling different to their biological child broke her heart, especially as it was so clear she'd already developed a strong connection with him. "As far as she's concerned you are her Dad. With this one on the way I'm kind of hoping you're planning on sticking around for a while too."

"You know I am."

"It's ok if you want her to call you Daddy."

Instantly his brow furrowed at the word. Being someone's "Daddy" brought with it a whole load of responsibility, and he of all people knew the damage that could be done when it wasn't taken seriously, or such authority was abused. Sure he was gearing up for that when the baby was born, but had he already fallen into the role with Rachel without even realising it?

"Legally she's your kid."

"In every way that matters she's yours too," his girlfriend insisted, meaning every word. He fed her, clothed her, played with her and put her to bed on a night. Years before the thought of how unsuitable a father figure he would be had prevented her from asking him to be a sperm donor during one of her numerous attempts at IVF. Deep down she'd known she wanted him to be more than just the guy who shares fifty percent of his DNA with their prospective child, yet she'd been unable to reconcile the unpredictable elements of his personality with the traits required by a stable parent. Consequently she'd held her tongue. Now, and not for the first time in her life, House had surprised her. "I know you care about her."

"And you're fine with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?... You're great with her."

Hearing the sincerity in her voice, House felt the tension leave his whole body. Looking down at the baby in his arms, he watched her heavy eyelids close as he slowly rocked her. He had grown to care about her in the time that he'd been with her Mom, to the point that he'd actually looked forward to seeing her when he got back from work over the past few days. Not that he'd necessarily own up to that without some kind torture, nevertheless the affection was there and she certainly seemed to like him. His life had changed beyond all recognition since Cuddy had told him she was pregnant, so was this really a huge deal in the grand scheme of things? Perhaps this was another way of putting down roots, another reason to step up to the plate and not fuck up.

"Ok," he eventually agreed, drawing an elated grin from the woman sat next to him.

Leaning forward she kissed him on the cheek and ran her fingertips along his jawline, watching him close his eyes and sag into her out of relief. For a long, long time their co-existence had almost exclusively relied on conflict. That was never going to change completely. They were too stubborn for that to ever be realistic, but the downtime in between was becoming increasingly important to both of them. A subtle touch, even a look, was capable of conveying just how much they meant to each other, regardless of their well-honed skills at driving each other insane.

For a few minutes they simply sat quietly together, the events of the day washing over them, neither of them willing to discuss what had happened and risking destroying this moment of peace just yet. Eventually Cuddy glanced down at the sleeping form of her daughter, and smiled. It was bed time for one of them at least.

"You want to put her down, or shall I?"

"I'll go," House replied, carefully getting to his feet so as not to disturb the baby, and about to walk away when he felt a hand gently tugging at his. Still sat down, his girlfriend was looking up at him expectantly.

"We still need to talk."

"Should I dig out the paddle and the handcuffs, and get in the foetal position on the bed?" he asked mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her thoroughly unconvincing attempt to convey her disgust.

"Go!"

The corner of his mouth curving into a smirk, he did as he was told.

* * *

"House, my face is here."

At the opposite end of the bed her boyfriend wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to what she was saying. On some level he knew her mouth was moving and that noise was coming out, but his attention was diverted elsewhere as he continued to massage one of her feet. It was hardly his fault if the area between her thighs that had come into view since her towel had flopped open when she'd moved her leg a few minutes previously.

"Hmmm?"

"I said I'm up here." Realising he wasn't going to listen to her unless she removed the distraction, she crossed her legs and heard him groan in disappointment. "I asked you a question."

Mildly disgruntled that she'd spoilt his fun, House finally looked her in the eye and sighed. They'd been discussing what happened earlier for a while now and they seemed to be going round and round in circles. It wasn't a full-blown argument, but it still felt needlessly draining nevertheless.

"I just don't get why you're so upset… I mean I've said worse in the past and it never bothered you half as much."

"You genuinely don't understand why I don't want you telling other people about our sex life?"

"No!" he answered honestly. "It's great! Why wouldn't I want everybody to know that?"

Pissed off with his response she wrenched her foot away from him and snarled in his direction.

"You're still my employee, House!… You might not care about the level of respect I need to command as Dean of that hospital, but I do. It's not appropriate!"

Dismissively he rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't respect what she did. Sure he'd spent the last decade telling her she wasn't a proper doctor and undermining the bureaucratic elements of her work. On a logical level he knew that hospitals needed administrators to run smoothly, and more specifically PPTH needed her. It was just that he didn't feel any amount of 'undermining her position' would affect her status in that hospital. She was far, far too good at what she did for the Board to ever consider firing her, and therefore this whole conversation was purposeless.

Sensing his reticence to accept her point, Cuddy decided to change tack.

"So, as my boyfriend, you're happy with a bunch of horny med students leering at me then?"

"I…" he fumbled, screwing his face up in confusion. She'd thrown him a curveball and in that second he didn't quite know how to deal with it.

"You know that there's a bet to see who can sleep with me first?"

"No." In reality he knew there always was, in fact in years gone by he and Wilson had made wagers on which overly ambitious, future doctors would actually be stupid enough to make a pass at her, but being away for several weeks had left him out of the loop. Now the mere thought of someone hitting on her made his blood boil.

"It's bad enough dealing with that crap without you encouraging it. I feel vulnerable enough as it is right now, but if you're ok with that?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she turned her gaze away from him in exasperation. Being gawped at by a group of frisky young men bothered her a hell of a lot more now that she was pregnant. She'd already explained to him how self-conscious she felt at the moment. It really didn't seem like too much to ask for her boyfriend to appreciate that, or indeed for her to rely on him not to make matters worse.

House crawled to the other end of the bed, and kissed her bare arm. It was finally starting to dawn on him just how much of a prick he'd really been.

"No, I'm not ok with that… I've been a jerk, I'm sorry."

"What happens between you and me in here…"

"In the living room, in the bathroom, the kitchen, the car," he interrupted jokingly, half-heartedly trying to lighten the mood.

"What happens between us means something to me… We're not just screwing around anymore."

Clasping her hand, he weaved his fingers through hers and squeezed tightly, the guilt pricking at him. Like he often did, he'd opened his mouth and thought later.

"I know." There was a gravid silence as he mulled something other before speaking again. "Can't I at least tell Wilson?"

"No!" she protested forcefully. In many ways their mutual friend being privy to the intimate details of their private life was even worse. She knew he must have mentioned things in the past, because there were days when the oncologist practically blushed when they encountered one another. Inwardly she cringed. He probably wanted to know about their sex life as much she wanted to know about his, which was basically not at all. House, on the other hand, had a propensity for verbal diarrhoea when the topic suited him.

"Oh come on! You're seriously going to tell me you don't talk to Julia about us?"

She shook her head.

"She knows I've got nothing to complain about in that department, but that's it... I don't feel the need to gossip about what we get up to. It's our business and nobody else's."

Beginning to relent, House threw his free arm behind his head petulantly and pouted.

"You're smoking hot! How can I not show off?"

"There other ways to let people know you're proud of me, without letting them know how flexible I am in bed."

"But if I suddenly start acting like the perfect gentleman, everybody will think I'm pussy whipped."

Finding the pained expression etched across his features hilarious, Cuddy snorted.

"Firstly, nobody's going to mistake you for the perfect gentleman. Secondly, since when did you care about what other people think?"

"Well, _firstly_, I'm mortally wounded that you'd think that," he retorted, feigning offence. "Secondly, contrary to popular belief, I'm actually a people person."

Rolling onto her side and scooting further down the bed, she placed her hand on his chest and looked at him coyly.

"I guess what we've been arguing about for the last half hour is whether or not you want me to yourself." Tenuously slowly, she traced her fingers further down his torso, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything but the movement of her hand. "Personally I don't like sharing."

"You're playing me?" House probed, his eyes narrowing and the faintest hint of a shrewd smile ghosting over his lips. She may get on his nerves at times, but his girlfriend was never, ever going to bore him.

"I didn't say anything I didn't mean tonight." With the light from the lamp shining in her blues eyes, they glinted with mirth. "That said, I'm not above appealing to your baser, male instincts to make you see sense."

"That's cheating."

"You use what you've got, House." Pulling at the knot that held the towel around her, she threw one edge of the fabric behind her and revealed the silky skin beneath, excited goosebumps forming as she watched his approving eyes rake over the length of her. Perhaps it should have gotten old by now, knowing she had this effect on him, but it hadn't. In fact the opposite was true. Knowing full well she could hold his attention in this way, months into their relationship and whilst she was pregnant, was both a huge turn on and further reassurance about their future. "Don't blame the player, blame the game."

Whimpering when he felt her fingers creep along the inside leg of his pyjama bottoms, he out and out moaned when she unashamedly brushed her hand against his cock. Twisting around to face her, he observed her dilated irises and the flush in her cheeks, knowing full well she wanted him as much as he wanted her. That very fact never ceased to amaze him. Desperately he wanted to jump in a time machine and visit his lonely, shy, seventeen year old self and tell him not to worry: one day he'd hit the jackpot. One day he'd be sharing a bed every night with a smart, sexy and challenging woman who he now knew he couldn't live without. One day he'd part of something bigger and better than the relative safety of solitude.

"You're so sexy when you're cynical."

"I'm glad my cynicism does it for you." Unhurriedly she inched forward and kissed him, her hand cupping the back of his head as she tousled his hair and felt herself shiver. Eventually she pulled away and lightly grazed his cheek with the backs of her nails. "I was thinking maybe you could show me how _not _pussy whipped you are."

Inquisitively House raised an eyebrow, and then blew the air out of his lungs disappointedly.

"I'm actually kind of beat. We might have to give it a miss tonight."

"Really?" she spat out incredulously. As long as they'd been a couple, he'd never once turned down sex.

"Not a chance, Cuddles," he laughed, tapping her thigh and then scooting to the edge of the bed to remove his pants, a devious grin spreading across his face as he did so. "I want that ass in the air where I can see it."

* * *

Bleary-eyed Cuddy squinted at the alarm clock, and saw it was a little past two AM. Without needing to look up at him, she instinctively knew House was awake. The tension was radiating off the body she was snuggled against, making it obvious there was a reason behind his insomnia. Placing a placatory palm against his bare stomach, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"You really are worried about Wilson."

He didn't answer straight away. Instead he continued to stare at the ceiling fan.

"Losing Amber messed him up… If he doesn't want me to know who he's seeing, he either still doesn't trust me not to accidently kill her, or he knows I'll think she's not good enough for him."

"He trusts you," Cuddy countered with certainty. Yes, he'd been on the verge of leaving Princeton after the crash because he couldn't initially bear to be around him, but that had been dealt with. After the hallucinations and his stay at Mayfield, she had to reassure him that he wasn't responsible for the freak accident that led to the young woman's death. Bad luck and awful circumstance were.

"Which leaves option number two… What should I do?"

Thoughtfully she drummed her fingers on his skin.

"You don't put itching powder in his shorts before you think he has a date, or find out who she is and confront her… You wait."

"Until whoever she is screws him over?"

"Yeah, you wait until he comes to you… Sometimes all you can do is be there for someone when they need you."

Smiling to himself, he meandered his fingertips along her spine and cupped the natural curve at the base.

"You know for an administrator, you're actually pretty intelligent."

"And for a guy whose balls are this close to my knee, you're actually pretty brave." Wrapping herself around him more tightly, she kissed his neck. "We'll talk about you getting your license back in a way that doesn't drive us both mad tomorrow, but right now we both need some sleep… Close your eyes, House."

And he did.


	12. Chapter 12

_Penultimate chapter guys! (I'm cooking up an Epilogue so technically there's three to go.) Big thanks to everyone for reading and for all the reviews, favourites and alerts in the last seven days. It means a lot. :) _

_Angst sandwich here, as well as a bit of a cliffhanger… So sorry! Also advance apologies to the medically trained who might be reading this. I did my best to make this chapter realistic, but there might be some mistakes. _

_I just borrow them for my own amusement._

* * *

Sensing a hand raking through his hair, reality started bleeding into House's dream. The towel underneath him was in fact a bed sheet, the Sun warming his back was striking in through the bedroom window, and although it was Cuddy running her fingers over his scalp, she wasn't nearly as naked as in the images his mind had conjured up for him.

"House."

Without opening his eyes, he licked his lips and tried to re-accustom himself to his real surroundings, a hint of disappointment pricking at him.

"You're mean."

"I know," she shot back warmly. "Cruella Deville has nothing on me."

"I was having the best dream… We were alone on this beach, and you were wearing the tiniest excuse for a bikini…"

"And I think I can guess the rest… I have to go into work."

In an instant he turned onto his back, and squinted at her against the morning light filtering in through the open blind. Sat on the edge of the bed wearing a pant suit, his girlfriend with her now sizeable baby bump, was already ready to go into the hospital.

"Nope. Not happening," House said insistently, shaking his head with equal vehemence.

With a little less than two weeks until her due date they'd finally agreed for both of them to take time off before the baby was born. Initially she'd resisted, intent on working right up until their daughter would make an appearance. Then she'd been verbally and nearly physically assaulted by an irate relative of a recently deceased patient, and her boyfriend had put his foot down. For once she listened. Him taking time off as well seemed like the best course of action too. It solved the headache of finding someone who was prepared to oversee him for any length of time, besides she had no intention of staying off for the conventional period of maternity leave. Attempting that with Rachel had taught her that her being a stay-at-home Mom just wasn't a viable option for her if she wanted to stay sane.

"I have to."

"No you don't… The place is not going to collapse without you if you leave it for a few weeks."

"It already has," she replied in exasperation. "I got a call from Sanford Wells. Apparently my stand-in has somehow managed to delete numerous patient files from the new system… He practically begged. If somebody messes up because of this, there could be a huge lawsuit."

Unimpressed, House sat up against the headboard and clasped both hands behind his neck.

"I don't care… I wouldn't even care if the nurses were self-immolating. You're not going!"

"House, it's happening."

"You've been away for two days!... You're supposed to be relaxing."

"I'm fine," she replied softly. He was being over-protective. He had been ever since he'd got wind of the incident in her office that involved Security physically throwing her aggressor out of the hospital. Nevertheless she couldn't be angry with him for that. She'd spent years trying to make him outwardly care more and now that he was, for her at least, she could hardly tell him to stop. "I'll only be a few hours."

Briefly he let his eyes hover over her abdomen and then lifted them again to look at her.

"And what happens if she decides to pop out?"

"I'll be at a hospital with a fully functioning maternity ward, House."

"What about Rachel?" he pressed, continuing his interrogation.

"Marina's here. She's going to take her out for walk in a few minutes. You can go back to sleep if you want."

His resolve weakening, he let the air filter out of his wings slowly. She seemed determined and it was fairly obvious he was fighting a losing battle. Short of tying her down to a chair, there was probably little he could do.

"I'm not happy about this."

"Since when were you happy about anything?" she chuckled, getting to her feet and leaning over to kiss his cheek affectionately, before moving over to the full length mirror to take one last look at herself.

From the vantage point of the bed, House took the opportunity to look her over too, noting the slight frown on her face as she turned sideways and observed her baby bump in profile. Despite his numerous protestations to the contrary, he knew being this large made her feel uncomfortable, unattractive and consequently vulnerable. It wasn't that she'd always been hugely vain, but so much of her façade as the unflinching Dean of Medicine was linked to feeling good about herself and her appearance. Yes, she was both nervous and excited that the time had nearly come, but gaining weight, coupled with the confrontation a few days earlier had knocked her confidence. She'd hadn't specifically verbalized that to him, but then she didn't have to. He could see it with his own eyes. Not one to back down however, he knew going back in today was about more than just doing her boss a favour, she was facing down a few demons. Frankly, in spite of his reticence about her going in, he couldn't help but feel proud of her.

"We should go on a proper holiday when the girls are old enough to fly… There's this secluded beach in Malaysia where the sand is practically white and the ocean is crystal blue."

"Sound's beautiful," Cuddy replied wistfully, picturing it in her mind's eye. Truth be told she couldn't remember the last time she'd been away for more than a few days. Work hadn't really allowed for it and she'd always found the thought of holidaying on her own depressing. "It'd be difficult for both of us to get away at the same time."

"Non-negotiable… We're getting on a plane and flying there if I have lock you in my suitcase."

"I said difficult, not impossible," she smirked, taking one last glance in the mirror and heading for the door.

"Cuddy."

On hearing her name she turned on the spot and leant against the door jamb, regarding him expectantly.

"Yeah?"

Instead of answering straight away, House crossed his arms in front of himself and stared at her, the corners of his mouth flexing into a smirk and making her respond in kind. He was stalling her for the simple reason he wanted her company for a few seconds longer and they both knew it. Scanning over her he took in every inch, hoping to preserve a mental picture of her as she was right then for posterity. At the back of his mind he could almost hear his Father's voice telling him he was going soft, but he didn't care. There were moments when he looked at her and he couldn't believe his luck. He had a job that didn't bore him, and he was loved by and in love and with the only woman he'd ever truly envisaged having a family with. She was the centre of his Universe now, and sometimes he couldn't entirely disguise the reverence and the awe he had for her. Months earlier she may have told him not to put her on a pedestal, but how could he not? Atypically, he was itching to tell her how much he loved her, but he opted for something more characteristic to send her on her way. There'd be time for the former when she got back.

"You should really go to work… Your boobs in that blouse are doing funny things to me."

Amused by the comment, his girlfriend rolled her eyes and shook her head, grinning as she turned and left him to settle back down into the bed.

Half an hour later the his cell rang, waking him up once more and provoking an annoyed grunt as he reached out and grabbed it from the night stand. Blinking at the flashing display, he saw Cuddy's name and answered.

"Missing me already, huh?"

"Is that Dr. House?" an unfamiliar voice inquired, confusing him further through his haze of sleepiness. Absently he skimmed around the room to see how long it would take to get ready if the baby was on its way. Somewhere there was bag he'd been instructed to grab, which he'd locate as soon as he put the phone down.

"Yeah." Rubbing his eyes, he moved to the edge of the bed to get his bearings. "Why have you got my girlfriend's phone? Has she gone into labour?"

The momentary pause at the other end made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Instinctively he knew something was wrong.

"No, Sir. I'm afraid Dr Cuddy has been involved in a car accident."

* * *

Shoving past numerous people who got in his way, House lumbered through the Emergency department and stopped at the board to look for her name. The ride there had been horrific, at one point his mind so preoccupied with how Cuddy was that he himself had narrowly missed going into the side of the truck, all the while a small voice kept on repeating the same thing: _"You shouldn't have let her go. You shouldn't have let her go."_

Hurriedly locating her in Bay Four, he strode across the floor as fast as he could manage and pulled back the curtain.

"What the hell did I tell you about coming in?" he asked brusquely, his raised tone garnering attention from those buzzing around the department.

"Why don't you ask a little louder, House?... I'm sure there's a wing of the hospital that didn't quite hear you."

Wincing a little as she tried to prop herself up, he watched Wilson jump up from the chair next to her bed and gently help her to sit up further, before glancing in his direction.

"I really don't think now is the time for this. Cut her some slack."

Feeling suitably chastised the diagnostician closed the curtain behind him and turned back to observe her visible injuries. Her bottom lip was split, a small, newly stitched gash adorned her forehead and a discarded neck brace lay in her lap, something which she was no doubt responsible for herself: doctors really did make the worst patients. Stepping forward he relieved his best friend of his duties and plumped the pillow behind her himself, the relative silence of the task allowing him to gather his thoughts. Details of what had actually happened to her and her injuries had been vague over the phone. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd listened that much after he'd heard the word 'accident' anyway. Instead his mind had conjured up hundreds of stomach-churning scenarios that had left him petrified as he got ready and made the journey to PPTH.

When she seemed suitably comfortable, again he looked her over concernedly.

"You ok?"

She nodded.

"Aside from a headache."

"You scared the crap out of me," he practically whispered, clasping her hand and allowing his gaze to drop to her bump under the covers.

"I'm sorry… Marina still got Rachel?"

"No, I left her sweeping the chimney." Seeing the bemused look on her face, he smiled. "I called her and she said she'd have her as long as we needed."

"Thanks."

In response he gave a shrug, letting her know it was no big deal.

"What happened?"

"I stopped at the lights, checked my mirror and saw this guy coming up behind me. Next thing I knew they were putting me in the ambulance."

"You were unconscious?... Have you been for a scan yet?"

Cautiously she shook her head, fully aware he was about to explode.

"Why the fuck not?!"

Sighing, she ran her free hand over her cheek in vexation. House making a scene was the last thing she wanted right now. Ideally she'd be in and out of there as soon as possible, and sinking into a hot bath at home.

"I know who I am, the year and the name of the President. Neither of my pupils have blown and I don't feel sleepy… In case you didn't notice this place is kind of busy. I wait my turn like everybody else."

"You're the Dean of goddamn Medicine!" he countered.

"And that entitles me to jump the queue?"

"Yes!"

"House," Wilson cut in. "This isn't helping."

Turning to the oncologist, his friend shot him a dismissive glare.

"Shut up!... This is none of your business."

Starting to lose patience with her boyfriend as her head began to throb, Cuddy wrenched her hand away from him and burnt her eyes into his.

"If you're going to be an ass you can leave."

"I'm not moving," he replied stubbornly, hooking his cane on the side of her bed and folding his arms across himself. "I've got more right to be here than he has."

Agitatedly she shifted around in the bed, a sharp pain in her stomach making her grimace slightly, but right now she was more focused on the unnecessary agitation her partner was currently causing.

"And I'd rather have him here than you if you can't behave yourself!"

House shook his head and stood his ground.

"Not moving."

"Fine," she said in exasperation, pushing the guard down at the side of her and swinging her legs to the floor. "If you won't, I will."

Immediately both men in the cubicle gravitated towards her, their arms flying out in front of them to grab hold of her, as she tentatively got to her feet. A wave of nausea flowing over her, Cuddy knew the sensible thing was probably to sit back down, but she needed a breather for a minute or two. On and off they'd been arguing ever since Wilson had revealed he was seeing his first wife, Sam, again. When they started bickering it was like refereeing a fight between two seven year old girls, who were squabbling over who had the better pencil case.

"Where are you going?" House and Wilson inquired simultaneously, their brows both furrowing as she looked from one face to the other, either side of her. Any other time she might laugh. They might be arguing, but they were both on the same page.

"I'm going to the bathroom, unless you want to hold my hand there too?"

"I'll get you a bed pan," House offered.

"I don't need a bed pan."

"Cuddy are you sure?" Wilson asked, looking at her peculiarly as she felt beads of sweat form across her forehead, and his face blurred temporarily. "You don't look well."

"I'm fine," she answered unconvincingly, taking a tiny step forward when she felt something warm trickle down the inside of her leg.

For a split second her prevailing emotion was embarrassment. Losing control of her bladder in front of her boyfriend and her friend was hardly an experience she'd relish, and then she saw the long red line make it's way down her calf and pool on the white linoleum floor. With horror she twisted round and saw her fear echoed on her boyfriend's face, his eyes bulging as he caught sight of the crimson blood at her foot.

With everything seemingly happening in slow motion, her eyes began to close and for the second time that day her vision faded to black.

* * *

Everything whirled by House as he stayed inanimate. He'd seen the blood on the floor and it was as if his whole had body shut down. It had been Wilson who'd picked her up when her knees had buckled. Wilson who'd laid her back on the bed, and Wilson who'd called for help.

He'd seen this happen to other people hundreds of times before. Their loved one had taken a turn for the worse and they froze to the spot like a rabbit waiting to be run over by a truck. The logical part of his brain willed him to act, to take charge of the situation and do what he'd been trained to do, but he was unable to move a muscle. Instead he watched Cuddy's head lolling to the side, her grey pallor further proof that she was bleeding internally, as the team that had been summoned buzzed around her. Snippets of information hit his auditory nerve and were only half processed: "Hypotensive", "foetal distress", "placental abruption" all terms he'd heard many, many terms in his career and now they felt like a barrier of water about to drown him.

Cuddy was bleeding out and his daughter was fighting for her life. This couldn't be real. It had to be a bad, bad dream. If he hadn't been so catatonic, he'd have attempted to pinch himself.

Feeling a hand rest on his arm, he snapped out of his stupor and turned to look at his friend, who was handing him his cane.

"House, they're taking her to the OR." Distractedly he nodded and glanced at them starting to move her. "We have to go."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly.

Following her down the corridor was equally surreal. Detecting several pairs of eyes on him he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, a struggle for him in most circumstances but all the more so as he watched his girlfriend being rushed away in front of him. Rounding the corner just as they burst through the double doors and into the theatre, his muscles tensed and his whole body stopped moving.

"I can't do this."

Stepping in front of him, Wilson frowned.

"What?"

"I can't do this," he repeated, shaking his head. "I can't go in there."

"You have to!"

Again his head swung from side to side, more violently this time.

"I can't watch her die… You go."

"Ten minutes ago you were telling me to get lost. She needs you!" the oncologist countered furiously.

"Why would she need me?... I can't help her. I'm not a surgeon."

"She needs to know you're there."

"I can't!"

With the intention of getting as far away as possible, House turned on his heel and began to walk away when Wilson forcibly pulled him back and pushed him against the wall.

"You'd honestly go and get high when your girlfriend and your baby are in there?"

Dropping his head, he tried in vain to stop the tears clouding his vision, but he couldn't. Finding the nearest bottle of Vicodin hadn't been something he'd consciously set his mind on, nevertheless they both knew that was what would happen if he went.

"That's why you should go…. She doesn't need a pathetic junkie. She needs someone she can depend on." Wiping a tear away from his cheek with his sleeve, he sniffed and lifted his chin to make eye contact. "This is all my fault."

"Unless you were the one who crashed the car into her, I don't think it is."

"Everybody who gets close to me gets hurt." Closing his eyes he saw his hallucination of Amber taunting him the night Cuddy had found him on the nursery floor. He'd rationalised her barbs, told himself they weren't true in the months since he'd left Mayfield, but now it was all too clear his subconscious had been prophetic. He'd been warned and he'd selfishly chosen to ignore it. "I should never have gone near her in the first place. She'd have adopted Rachel, found somebody else… She'd have been fine."

"She loves you."

"And now she's paying for that."

"Stop making this about you! For God's sake, House, you feeling sorry for yourself achieves nothing!" Wilson sighed and planted his hands on his hips firmly. "For someone who calls other people out on their bullshit when they even mention believing in mystical, higher forces, you really do think the Universe revolves around you!… Bad things, they just happen! Sure you've had more than your fair share of crappy luck, but that doesn't mean you're cursed or whatever it is you've convinced yourself of… All you can do is deal with the fallout the best you can."

"What if I have to choose between her and the baby?... She'll never forgive me if I choose her. I don't want to choose, but I'd have to choose her."

"And that's worse than losing her altogether?"

"No," he replied honestly. It wasn't. In fact their relationship seemed like a small sacrifice if it meant he kept her alive. She could hate him, despise him, wish him to the other side of the planet, but at least he'd be able sleep at night knowing she was living and breathing.

"Right now you think that losing her is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. It's not… Losing her and having to live with the fact you weren't there when she died is." Feeling himself lose his composure as he thought about having to switch off the bypass machine that kept Amber alive, he took a series of deep breaths. "Cuddy was the one who kicked my ass and made me realise that, and this is me returning the favour… You go now and you'll never forgive yourself... She probably won't forgive you either if she wakes up and you were too busy getting high to be there for her."

Nervously glancing at the double doors behind which they were no doubt prepping her for a c-section, House gulped hard. Through good and bad she'd stuck by him, long before they'd become a couple. He had to suck up whatever he was feeling and be the man she needed him to be.

"What do I do?"

"You scrub in, hold her hand and don't let go. On some level she'll know you're there… Cuddy is the strongest person I know, she's not going to give up without a fight, and if that little girl is half as stubborn as you two then neither is she."

Clenching his shaking hand more tightly around his cane, House nodded.

"Are you coming in too?"

Slowly Wilson shook his head. Whether this ended badly or not, his physical presence in the room would feel like an encroachment on something that was deeply private, in spite of the other medical personnel already present in the OR.

"I'll watch from the viewing window." Placing his hand on his shoulder, he gave him a pacifying squeeze. "Go and watch your daughter be born."

Visibly steeling himself, House closed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks. Whatever happened after the next couple of hours was irrelevant. His World may be about to come crashing down around his ears, but for now he had to regard that as the distant future and live in the moment.

With a silent nod he left his best friend in the corridor, and pushed through the double doors into the unknown.


	13. Chapter 13

_Here we are folks- last(ish) chapter! (Epilogue to come.) Thanks for all your support for the story and lots of love for everybody who's taken the time to read and write reviews. I'd probably still be thinking about writing chapter two if I didn't get your weekly, metaphorical kick up the backside._

_Sorry for the cliffhanger last week. Some adequate resolutions here I hope._

_I let my storylines actually lead somewhere, therefore I am not David Shore. I am also penniless._

* * *

Tiredly House pushed the air out of his lungs and stretched his legs, attempting to release some of the tension of the day. In his arms Rachel wriggled slightly and pushed the bottle he was feeding her with away from her mouth to let out a raspy gurgle. Setting it down on the floor he shushed her, and glanced sheepishly at the sleeping figure of his girlfriend as she lay in the hospital bed still hooked up to a drip after surgery. It was late and the little girl should probably have gone to her Auntie's for an overnight stay, but when Marina rang he'd automatically asked her to bring her to the hospital. Instinctively he knew Cuddy would want to see her when she woke up, and he needed something to focus his mind on, or more precisely someone.

Adjusting the nine month old in his lap as she began to doze off, from the corner of his eye he caught sight of a figure walking past the room and looked up just as Wilson quietly slid open the door holding a sandwich and a bottle of juice, placing them on the cabinet the other side of the bed.

"I brought you something to eat."

"Not hungry," House chimed back, returning his attention to Rachel and running his thumb soothingly across her forehead as she drifted off to sleep.

Taking a step back Wilson leant against window and regarded the scene before him. Never in a million years would he have imagined his best friend was capable of such an open display of affection towards a child, and yet there he was practically cooing over his step-daughter. This man seemed incongruous with the misanthrope, who'd actively mocked the children he treated on a regular basis. Perhaps miracles did happen and people really did change, or at the very least evolve.

"If you need to stretch your legs or go to the bathroom, I can keep an eye on Rachel for a bit."

"I'm fine."

"You've been sat there for hours."

"Like I said, _I'm fine_," he repeated firmly. "I'm going to be here when she wakes up."

"I know, but…" Seeing the look House shot him, the oncologist closed his mouth and regrouped, crossing one leg in front of the other nervously and pressing his palm against the cold glass behind him, suddenly realising how exhausted he was. If he was exhausted he could only imagine how fatigued the man sat in front of him was. "You shouldn't feel guilty… If I had a dollar for every time a patient's partner thought about bailing…"

Letting the sentence hang in the air, he shifted awkwardly on the spot, sensing the anger emanating from his friend. If there was one thing House hated, it was being compared to mere mortals, but nevertheless he needed to hear it.

"You mean like Cuddy bailed on me when I started hallucinating your dead girlfriend?... Oh wait!" the diagnostician responded, ashamedly turning away and staring out into the empty corridor. Time and time again she'd stuck by him and the one occasion she'd really needed him, he'd nearly run for the hills and buried himself in a vat of Vicodin like a frightened girl. He was completely disgusted by his behaviour.

"You were in shock and you're a recovering addict… It's not the best combination."

"They both could've died and I would have been too stoned to even care… If you hadn't stopped me…." Mournfully he looked Wilson in the eye, his horror at an alternate reality where he'd walked away, plain to see. "I look at her sometimes and wonder what the hell she sees in me."

Wilson smirked.

"I have no idea either… You're hardly good-looking, you're obsessed with crap television and you have no idea how to load a dishwasher."

In spite of himself House smiled.

"Seriously though?... Because I am punching way above my weight here."

The oncologist shrugged matter-of-factly.

"She doesn't think so… She admires what you do, it excites her that you don't see things like everybody else, and most importantly she's one of the few people who can see that underneath all the bullshit and bluster, there's actually a decent human being."

"Are you flirting with me, Jimmy?"

Rolling his eyes, the younger man folded his arms across his chest and went on.

"You argue, you drive each other mad because you're so different, but you knock off each other's rough edges… Cuddy's stopped stressing over every little thing, and you're starting to resemble a responsible human being… She needs you and you need her. Neither of you will ever be remotely happy with anybody else and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for the rest of civilization."

Finding himself somewhat satisfied with his friend's answer, he nodded, more to himself than anybody else. It was true. He just couldn't imagine himself with anybody else now, furthermore he didn't want to. The woman who'd wrangled him for nearly a decade before they'd become a couple really was "it" for him. She always had been, and yet he'd been too stupid, stubborn and proud to see it.

"Can you believe we've got kids now?" he asked, scratching his head as if he was baffled with the turn of events. "I'm talking plural."

"I went to see her in the baby unit," Wilson admitted with a genuine smile. "She's beautiful."

Mirroring his expression, House grinned too and thought back to the brief moment he'd held her in the OR just after she was born. With his mouth agape he'd counted ten fingers and ten toes and melted rather pathetically when she'd fleetingly opened her blue eyes and regarded him seemingly sceptically before snuggling into the towel he held her in and going to sleep.

In his fifty years on Earth he'd seen and experienced many spectacular things, but nothing held a candle to cradling his daughter for the first time. In the past he'd routinely rolled his eyes at parents he overheard gushingly recounting the moment they'd first met their child, but so many of what he had thought were clichés had become recognisable, especially the all-encompassing love he inexplicably felt for a tiny creature he'd known for a matter of seconds and the crushing sense of inadequacy.

Watching them take her away had almost been unbearable, but in spite of her greyish hue and their concerns about the oxygen saturation in her blood, the new-born had been unperturbed by the situation. With half hourly updates from the baby unit, he'd stayed with Cuddy as the surgeons continued to work on her and then kept by her side as they wheeled her to a room to recover.

"I know," he replied softly. "I guess it's a good job she looks like her Mom." It was more than just a joke. In the minute or two he'd had with her he'd already noticed she had a smattering of her Mother's dark hair, her almond shaped eyes and olive complexion.

"She's ok?" a grainy voice asked, drawing their attention to the bed. In it Cuddy was drifting back into consciousness, her eyelids straining to open as she fought the anaesthetic that was still in her system.

Reaching out to her with his free hand, House clasped hers reassuringly.

"She's great."

"What happened?"

Looking to his friend, House pleaded silently and Wilson took the hint.

"I'll take Rachel for a few minutes and leave you guys to talk."

Walking over to Cuddy, he bent down to give her a congratulatory peck on the cheek and then picked up the sleeping baby from his friend's arms, before exiting the room. Nervously House got to his feet and stood over her, wiping a lock of hair away from her forehead and almost flinching at how frail she seemed. Nobody looked good after they'd come back from surgery, but seeing her so her look so weak and drawn unnerved him. He'd almost lost her. _Almost._

"House, what happened?" she repeated, drawing him out of his musings about the horrific events earlier.

"The accident caused a placental abruption. They rushed you into surgery and gave you a C-section." He paused and looked at her pensively, apprehension clearly etched on his features, before gulping and deciding to bite the bullet. "They delivered the baby, but they couldn't stop the bleeding so they had they had to perform a partial hysterectomy..." Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he saw her process the information; first the shock and then the horrible realisation. "I'm so sorry… If there was anything else…"

Turning her gaze away from him, his girlfriend stared at the ceiling inscrutably, her own vision blurred by as yet unshed tears. She didn't know how to feel about the loss of her womb, but that was something to think about later.

"But our daughter is really ok?"

He nodded happily.

"Her oxygen saturation was a little low when she was born, but she's doing well now… Cuddy, she's perfect."

Relief hitting her in waves she finally broke down, the whole of her body wracking in sobs that made every inch of her ache. In spite of the pain all she could think about was her little girl. The one she'd found herself talking to during rare moments of solitude during her pregnancy, and who she'd daydreamed about what she'd looked like almost from the moment she'd decided to keep her.

"I should have listened to you this morning," she croaked in between sniffs.

"It's not your fault."

"I could have lost her."

Steeling himself, House took a deep breath and ran his fingertips delicately along her cold cheek, making a mental note to ask for another blanket for her. The role reversal of her in a hospital bed as he held her hand seemed both surreal and unnatural.

"I could have lost you," he whispered back.

Turning her mouth into his palm, she kissed it and then smiled at him.

"You don't get rid of me that easily."

"There are cockroaches that are easier to kill."

"Hey!" Cuddy objected with a chuckle, wincing a little as her muscles contracted. "That's no way to talk to the mother of your child… Speaking of which, I want to see her."

Starting to sit up, House firmly pushed her back down.

"You're not going anywhere."

"But…"

"But nothing… You need to rest a little longer and then I'll get them to bring her up. I've got Taub checking up on her every half hour."

Glancing outside at the night sky she had no idea how long she'd been out for, but she guessed it must have been several hours, which meant it was no doubt was fairly late.

"He's still here?"

"I've got enough dirt on Mini Me to make him do whatever I want, Cuddy," he retorted with a mischievous grin. "He'll stop standing sentry over our daughter when I tell him to."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"It's probably better that you don't." Continuing to stroke the side of her face, House leaned over the side of the bed and kissed her on the forehead, careful to avoid her cut and the now purple bruising. "Now shut up and go back to sleep."

"You need to work on your bedside manner."

Tutting as he watched her eyes began to close again, he ran his hand comfortingly through her hair.

"It's like you don't know me at all… You really did bang your head, huh?"

The corners of her mouth curved up into a girlish smirk, the sentiment tickling her. Of course she knew him. Inside, out. The darkness and the light.

"Love you," she mumbled, her grip on his hand lessening as she started to drift off and embrace her tiredness.

"You have no idea," her boyfriend responded, waiting for her breathing to even out before he extracted himself from her and settled back down on the chair next to the bed.

Craning his head backwards, he promptly fell asleep as well.

* * *

"If you keep on crying every time you hold her, she'll get a complex," House cracked from the end of Cuddy's hospital bed, his legs kicking haphazardly as he watched her cradling their new daughter with joyful tears streaking down her cheeks. A few feet away Rachel sat happily on the floor, nonsensically chattering to the small, white plush rabbit she was intermittently chewing on the ear of.

As unlikely as it was in the relative discomfort of the chair somehow he'd managed to grab a few hours sleep, eventually waking up to Wilson snoring on the couch behind him, Rachel snugly tucked into her carry cot and daylight streaking in through the blinds. Rubbing his sore neck and reaching for the Advil in his pocket to make a dent in the dull throb in his leg, he'd felt a pair of eyes staring at him and had looked up to see his girlfriend silently pleading with him. It wasn't that she was in any real physical discomfort. He'd seen to it that she was on more than adequate pain relief, she was just desperate to see the baby she'd given birth to but was yet to see.

Hours later, and despite protestations that she needed to take it easy, Cuddy had barely let go of her, the look of absolute awe still evident every time she glanced down at the small bundle.

"I can't help it."

"She's cool, huh?" Pulling the wrapper off a cherry sucker he put it in his mouth and continued talking. "Although with my brains and beauty, and your obsession with turning up to everything twenty minutes early, she was bound to turn out like this."

"She's amazing," she responded, ignoring his flippant comment and lightly ghosting her finger ghosting over the baby's cheek, attempting to imprint every little detail. "We're sticking with Jessica?"

"Kind of suits her, but if you've changed your mind…"

Cuddy shook her head.

"No, It does…. I just…"

"What?"

Concerned that there was something wrong, House took the candy from his mouth and placed it back in the wrapper, frowning at her as he did so. Noticing his unease she spat it out.

"I can't get my head around this… Us, a home, two kids. It's crazy!"

"All we need is a puppy, right?"

"You want a dog?" she retorted, about to launch into a sermon on why it would be a bad idea when he started to smirk.

"Relax woman! We've already got Wilson on timeshare when Sam decides to let him out to play." The man himself has reluctantly torn himself away to get a shower and embark on his rounds. "Better still, when he's not drunk, he's more or less toilet trained."

Observing her laugh and then bite her lip at the resulting soreness in her abdomen, he hopped off the bed and gestured for her to hand the baby over, taking her in her arms and readjusting the blanket that enveloped her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Seeing him be so gentle and attentive with their daughter, Cuddy felt herself choke up again, a sea of hormones leaving her less in control of her emotions than she might usually be.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

Catching hold of his sleeve, she pulled his arm down towards her and laced her fingers through his, her other hand wiping away the fresh tears forming in her eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

"For giving me what I always wanted."

As if embarrassed House looked away towards the window, then to Rachel who was still playing on the floor, before glancing down at the baby he was holding. Finally he returned his gaze to his girlfriend, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing up and down as he gulped.

"Thank you for giving me what I had no idea I needed."

* * *

"Is it safe to come in or should I go and fetch the colander to wear as a helmet?" House inquired sheepishly, popping his head around the bedroom door to find Cuddy tucked up in bed, aimlessly staring at the screen which flickered in front of her.

With a resigned sigh she switched off the television, pulled back the bed covers and patted the newly exposed spot next to her. Taking the hint he walked across the room and climbed next to her, pulling the duvet back and waiting for her to speak, resolving to himself that silence was probably the best policy until she decided to talk. Otherwise he might piss her off even further.

"I've been such a bitch."

"It's not the first time I've been called an asshole." He shrugged casually and turned to look at her, the tiniest amount of mirth turning curling his mouth upwards. "The whole plate smashing thing was a little excessive though."

Cringing at the memory, she closed her eyes in mortification and quietly wished the ground would swallow her up. House had got back from the store and found her washing dishes. When he'd told her to stop and take it easy she'd flipped, screaming that she felt useless and then hurling a barrage of abuse at him before throwing some of the crockery she'd just cleaned on the floor. To make matters worse, Blythe, who'd been staying with them since she and Jessica had come home, had bundled out of Rachel's room when she heard the commotion, only to find the kitchen in disarray and her son's girlfriend glowering at him. Still angry, Cuddy had pushed past them both and stormed into the master bedroom, soon finding herself in floods of tears for no apparent reason.

"I can't believe I did that while your Mom was here... I'm so sorry. I should go and apologise."

Attempting to get up, House pulled her back.

"I talked to her. She's cool… I explained that a part of your family was Greek so…"

Smiling at the joke, Cuddy tapped his arm playfully and leaned against him, relieved that the whole thing hadn't escalated into something bigger.

"I shouldn't have snapped… You and Blythe have been brilliant this last couple of weeks, and I'm so grateful, but I'm just not used to being this useless."

He nodded, empathising with her plight somewhat. For a natural born control freak like her this was probably her worst nightmare, but the instructions she'd been given not to overexert herself were for a good reason.

"Your body's been through a big trauma. If you overstrain yourself, you'll end up back in hospital."

"I know," she conceded. That was the last thing any of them wanted, especially when they were getting used to having a new baby in the house. He was entirely right, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Deciding to occupy her mind with something else, she focused on something more practical. "Your Mom feeding Jessica?"

"Uh-huh."

"And Rachel?"

"Fast asleep."

For a while they sat there in a comfortable silence, basking in the stillness and privacy of their own personal space after a characteristically chaotic day filled with diapers, formula and the general din of a family home.

"I'm glad your Mom's here," she said honestly.

It wasn't just the fact that she'd been such a great help whilst she recuperated. After initial misgivings when her boyfriend's Mom had made the offer to stay, she was pleased it had given House the opportunity to discuss their past as well. Seeing his daughter born had spurned him on to work through his own demons, and all the more determined to prove he wasn't going to make the same mistakes as his Father did.

Blythe and he had talked long into the night the second day she was there, him eventually coming to bed in the early hours looking exhausted, but as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She'd said she was sorry for what she'd let John House do to him, and he'd forgiven her, leaving the door open for a better, less evasive relationship between the two of them. It was a huge, huge step for him and Cuddy couldn't help but feel incredibly proud.

"Me too… It was either her or Arlene, and if your Mom had stayed one of us would be charged with first degree murder by now."

Knowingly Cuddy chuckled. It was probably a scarily accurate prediction of events had that been the case. Even the mere thought of her Mom hovering over her shoulder and telling her exactly what they were doing wrong made her shudder. If she was stressed now, well, that way madness truly lay.

"I keep on forgetting how hard all this has been on you," she breathed, turning further into him and placing her hand on his chest, remembering his nervous confession that he'd nearly panicked and fled when they'd rushed her into surgery. She'd have been lying to herself if she wasn't a little bit hurt, but much to his surprise she hadn't been mad. She was well aware what he'd been through not that long ago and how running away had been his default setting since he was a young boy. What mattered was that, with a good talking to from his best friend, he'd found the strength to be there for her without dulling his pain with Vicodin. That was more important than obsessing over a relapse that had never happened.

"I'm not the one who had a baby pop out of me, Alien-style," he joked light-heartedly, smirking into her hair. It wasn't the first time he'd made the comparison, nor would it probably be the last. Likening his ridiculously cute little girl to a slimy monster with several mouths was never going to get old.

"No, but you're just as tired and disorientated as I am." Lifting her head slightly, she brazenly looked him in the eye and dipped her hand under the covers, tracing it up the inside of his leg. "Frustrated too."

"Don't!" he countered firmly, grabbing her wrist and stilling her movement.

"Why? Just because I can't yet doesn't mean you shouldn't."

Definitively shifting her hand away, House picked it up and planted a gently kiss on the back, before slinging his arm around her and squeezing her tightly. A part of him wanted to let things go where she was planning, but how was that fair?"

"Because when that happens it's not going to be one-sided… I'm more than capable of taking care of myself in the meantime."

"Are you sure you'll want to?" Cuddy asked self-consciously.

"Are you kidding me?" He groaned having a good idea what the source of her unease was. "I'd be a hypocrite if your scar bothered me, and it really doesn't."

"It's not just that."

Not wanting to upset her further, he paused to consider what he was going to say next.

"I know the hysterectomy is a big deal for you… I know what it's like for people to look at you like you're crazy because you mourn a part of you that doesn't seem important." He fumbled for the right words for a second, hoping that he hadn't offended her with the comparison. Likening the missing chunk of muscle in his thigh to her capability to bear any more children seemed awkward, imperfect and crass on superficial level, but he knew all too well what it was like to struggle with an enforced loss in physical potential. It didn't matter that they had no real plans to have another baby. He knew the fact that it would be just about impossible and even dangerous for her to conceive again stung her just as much as the knowledge that he was incapable of hiking up a mountain, regardless of whether he wanted to or not. "I don't regret telling Hourani to go ahead with the procedure though. Not for a second… You were dying and that was the only thing that was going to stop me losing you. Rachel and Jessica too."

"I know," she said softly. "I just need some time to re-adjust."

More than a little relieved that this was something she working through, he couldn't get over her thinking that he wouldn't find her attractive anymore. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"For the record I spent most of dinner fantasising about us having sex in a five star hotel room."

"I hate that we can't."

"Then it's settled!" the diagnostician exclaimed with conviction. "As soon as you get the all clear I'm booking us into a swanky hotel... Spa treatments, expensive room service, the works."

"And you're going to pay for that?" she inquired sceptically. House wasn't exactly forthcoming when it came to spending his own money.

"Please! I know Wilson's credit card number off by heart." Hearing her laugh, he grinned broadly. "I'm serious though. I don't care where we do it. I just want my hot girlfriend naked and horizontal."

"Can we please stop talking about sex?... This is like baking a chocolate cake when you're on a diet."

"You started it."

"House!"

"Fine," he conceded, reaching for the remote control that lay in between them. "I guess we should find a distraction." Switching it on the screen lit up showing a young, attractive couple getting hot and heavy in the back of a cab. Simultaneously they both groaned and House furiously pressed the button for the listings. "Do we have the God Channel?"


	14. Epilogue

_So here it is: 'The End'. I hope you guys like it._

_Tons of thanks to everybody who read and followed this story, and special thanks to everybody who took the time to write reviews. It's been much appreciated over the past few months._

_Time jump alert! Oh and there's some fluff. Blame the 'Fic Pimp'. She thinks I write too much angst. _

_Jessica and the "Manny" are mine. I borrowed the others._

* * *

Jessica shook her head adamantly and stared her Dad down, her small hand clenching into a determined fist. Looking her over House couldn't help but think she was the pocket version of her Mother: stubborn, smart and disarmingly pretty. All she needed were five inch heels and an Armani suit.

"No!"

"It's apple. It's good for you," he chimed back feeling like a fraud. The only time he ate fruit was when Cuddy nagged him about taking care of himself.

"Then you eat it."

"I've already had my breakfast."

"You had cereal. I wanted cereal."

"If you eat it you can go and play with Rachel," House proposed, resorting to straight-forward bribery.

A few feet away Rachel was playing happily in the living room with her tea set and force-feeding her bear imaginary peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was hard to believe that two girls so close in age could be so different. Whereas Jessica was going through her "terrible twos" almost constantly craving attention, her older sister was nearly always content with her own company and considerably less high maintenance.

"Don't want to… Want candy."

Defiantly she picked up a handful of the fruit and dropped it on the floor, finally drawing the attention of her Mom who'd been stood at the counter mulling over the itinerary of the conference she was due to fly off to in a few hours. Bending down to pick up the discarded food, she felt a hand on her ass and raised herself to her full height again, regarding her daughter sternly.

"Do that again and I'm giving Grandma Arlene a call. You can explain to her why you're wasting food when there are starving children in the world." Sheepishly the little girl looked down into her bowl and started to eat again as Cuddy turned to House and pursed her lips. "And you do that again and you can have words with her too."

"It's hardly my fault you have a nice ass." Seeing her give him the 'not in front of the kids' look, he took the opportunity to wind her up even further. "Jessica's not the only one who wasn't allowed any sugar this morning."

"You'll keep."

"I'm going to have to seen as you're leaving me on my own for three days."

"You're hardly on your own, House. Julia's offered to help out if you need her and I'm sure Wilson would too…. Besides it'll give you time to work on your best man speech."

"I could just use the one from his last wedding," he retorted grumpily. In spite of his firm belief that Sam wasn't good enough for his best friend, Cuddy had more or less encouraged him to leave them alone and let them get on with their relationship unhindered by pranks and other road blocks.

"It's kind of romantic them getting married again."

Her boyfriend grunted and changed the subject back to their original topic.

"Why do you have to go when it's your birthday tomorrow?"

"The Board have never and never will give me time off for my birthday… Besides I'd rather not celebrate the fact I'm another year older."

House was just about to respond when the front door opened and everybody turned to see a young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boyishly handsome man step into the living room. Straight away Rachel stopped what she was doing and ran to him, making House mutter something under his breath in disgust. He'd taken a dislike to the post-grad student the second cuddy had hired him when Marina had gotten sick and couldn't work for them anymore.

"Hey Matt!" Cuddy exclaimed grinning broadly. "We're so pleased you could squeeze us in on a Sunday."

Watching her reaction to the young man, he scowled. He hated "Matt's" face, his youth, his charming English accent and most of all the way he looked at his girlfriend when he thought nobody was looking.

"It's my pleasure, Dr Cuddy… So how is everybody this morning?"

"Jessica wouldn't eat her breakfast and Daddy thinks Mommy has a nice ass," Rachel chimed in wide-eyed and innocently, as she hugged her teddy against herself.

Cuddy blanched and kicked House in the shin when he tittered, amused at the blush on the younger man's face.

"_Anyway_," she pressed on, attempting to move the conversation along more appropriate lines. "House should get back from his meeting before five and you've got our cell numbers if there's a problem."

"Brilliant… I thought I'd take them to the park and then to a new organic juice bar that's just opened up. They do great fruit smoothies for kids."

Out of the corner of his eye House saw Jessica's head fall miserably onto her hand and her lips form into a pout. She was in one of those moods and secretly he couldn't help but hope his youngest would give Mr Perfect hell today.

"That sounds great!"

"Shall we go and get your boots on then, Rachel?" Matt asked, drawing an enthusiastic nod from her. "You coming too, Jessica?"

Pleadingly she looked towards her Dad, until Cuddy came and lifted her out of her chair and urged her along towards him. Wilfully she held her ground.

"I want to stay with Daddy."

Getting up from his seat, House moved next to her and felt her fingers clasp the material of his jeans tightly like she was holding on for grim death, her teeth grazing along her bottom lip as if she was weighing up her options. Crouching down he pushed a strand of her curly hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Daddy's got to go out for a while, but when I get back you, Rachel and me can do something fun."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. For once in his life appeasement seemed like the best course of action.

"Whatever you want."

"Can we dress up like princesses?" the two year old inquired, touching his temple and looking at the top of his head as if she was sizing him up. "We can make pretty crowns."

Turning to Cuddy briefly, House saw her stifling a laugh and turned back, his tongue firmly planted in his cheek.

"Ok," he mumbled grumpily. "But that means you have to go with Matt."

Nodding emphatically, the little girl skipped along and grabbed Matt's hand, almost dragging him and Rachel out of the room so he could help her lace up her pink boots, whilst her Dad drew himself up and backed his amused girlfriend against the dining table, his hands circling her waist.

"You owe me."

"For looking after our daughters for a few days?"

"For being ritually emasculated. FYI I'm drawing the line at make-up."

"I want pictures, your Highness," Cuddy laughed. "I also want you to give Matt a break."

"I don't like him."

"Why? His references were amazing and the girls like him."

"It's weird… Why would a guy want to be a Nanny?"

"House, you still think it's weird that we have male nurses," his girlfriend sighed, trying to scrutinize his violent dislike for someone who was probably one of the nicest, most polite people she'd ever met. There was more to this than met the eye. "He's not replacing you in any way, shape or form. They know exactly who their Dad is and that's never going to change."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

Initially reluctant to answer, he took a deep breath and then told her what she wanted to know.

"I don't like the way he looks at you."

"Oh for God's sake! He's got a girlfriend."

"Because that always stops someone, huh?" he spat back sarcastically. "It's bad enough I have to watch you go weak at the knees every time he talks."

Pissed off she dropped her hands back down by her sides and glowered at him, making him gulp.

"So I'm the one you don't trust? Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"He's twenty-four, could probably pass for a girl he's that pretty and he writes his own poetry… Why wouldn't you be interested in him?"

"Are you sure it's not you that's got the hots for him, rather than me? Being mean to the people you like is all part of your M.O."

"I'm serious," he replied firmly.

"And so am I! Have I ever given you any indication that I'm not happy with us?" Pausing to ponder her question for a second, he then shook his head. "I happen to be in love with my brilliant, sexy, infuriating boyfriend… Why would I want a boy when I've already got a man taking care of me and my babies?"

In spite of himself House grinned widely. He might have spent countless hours hiding from her at work, but being needed at home genuinely made him inordinately happy these days. Finally he had a place and a purpose other than solving puzzles.

"I hate it when you go away."

"Surprisingly I'm not exactly ecstatic about it either."

Leaning into her, he ghosted kisses along her exposed shoulder, working his way up her neck, all the while his fingertips sneaking under her jumper and searching out the warm flesh underneath.

"Don't go," he whispered into her ear, the scratch of his beard against her cheek making her shiver. "We can pretend you're ill."

Turning into him Cuddy kissed her boyfriend hungrily, the force of the embrace leaving her breathless when she pulled away.

"I have to."

Her body ignoring what her brain was telling her to do, she kissed him again, one hand raking through his hair and the other snaking down his back until her fingernails were digging into his ass. From behind them a cough made them jump apart.

"Really sorry to interrupt, but the girls wanted to say bye before we left," Matt spluttered, his face a deep shade of crimson as Rachel and Jessica stood either side of him, frowning knowingly at their parents being caught out. It certainly wasn't the first time. Auntie Julia had found them 'kissing' in her guest room at a family barbeque the previous Saturday and told them off.

Walking towards her daughters Cuddy held her arms out and hugged them both tightly, tearing herself away before she lost her composure. She hated leaving them when they were still this young, but she always had to tell herself it was for their benefit. Not only did the sacrifices she made help to afford them this comfortable lifestyle, but she hoped she was setting them a good example too. Her girls would grow up knowing that any career was open to them if they were prepared to put the work in.

Sensing she was upset House squeezed her shoulder and said his own goodbyes to them, watching the young man usher them out of the door and then turning back to his girlfriend. He knew going away was always a wrench for her: practical Cuddy always warred with the one who hated being away from her family. He'd been incredibly selfish trying to make her stay.

"You're a great Mom," he reassured her, flinging his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. It wasn't just a platitude, she really was. She was firm, but fair and balanced out his laissez-faire attitude to parenting. More often than not she had to bail him out when Rachel and Jessica had him wrapped around their little fingers, nevertheless what they had worked and for two undeniably messed up individuals they appeared to have two stable, happy children.

"Thank you."

"It's true." Laying his chin on the top of her head he glanced at the clock above the mantel. "We should be making tracks to the airport."

"What if I got the later plane?... You could still drop me off at the airport and get back for your meeting."

Narrowing his eyes he jerked himself away and eyed her suspiciously. She only ever threw her plans out of the window when she really wanted something. In this case hopefully they were on the same page.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"What if I am?" she responded brazenly, one eyebrow raised provocatively, which made him bite his lip in anticipation. How could one gesture turn him on so much?

Without warning he grabbed her hand and began dragging her down the corridor to the bedroom, as she giggled behind him.

* * *

Lying flat on his back with a stupid grin on his face, House concentrated on getting his breathing back to normal. His thigh stung from the exertion, but it had been so worth it. Despite their initial desperation to get each other undressed, their love-making had been slow, deliberate and intense, neither of them afraid to vocalise what they wanted or their enjoyment in the uncharacteristically empty house. These days they had to make the most of such rare occasions.

With her own heart rate still racing, Cuddy set her hand on his chest and drew circles there.

"That was nice," she said lazily.

"Just nice?"

"Have I not massaged your ego enough, Buster?"

"You massaged a lot of things. It's hard to keep track." Seeing the corners of her mouth tick upwards, House rolled onto his side and regarded her, his fingers methodically searching out the soft skin of her shoulder, her arm and then her breast. Every part of her, inside and out, had always intrigued him, but the whole picture still left him in awe. "Your left boob is definitely my favourite boob."

"And now I feel bad for not having a favourite testicle."

Lifting the covers he made a point of glancing between his own legs.

"I always liked the right one."

Thoughtfully Cuddy rested her head in her palm. Her boyfriend had spent the morning stressing over her going away for a few days, when she'd had something else entirely on her mind.

"I'm going to miss seeing you at work if you leave."

"Because of my superior testicles?"

"Because the place is going to feel strange without my resident maniac and because…"

"You'll miss me staring down your top every time you bend over," he interrupted with a smirk.

"Surprisingly no!" she lied. Perhaps she would. It was always good to know she could still hold his attention after they'd been together this long. "This is a big step."

"I'm being offered my own practice and would get to pick and choose my patients. Oh and there's the small matter of being offered double the salary I'm on now… I'd be insane not to look an eccentric, millionaire gift horse in the mouth."

"I'm not happy my best doctor is being poached by someone who he treated in my hospital."

House had treated Charles Dawson, an elderly multi-millionaire who'd made his fortune in the soft drinks industry. So impressed with his doctor's no bullshit attitude to calling him out when he'd threated to sue the hospital for Taub and Thirteen breaking into his home, subsequent to recovering from his illness he'd approached his attending about setting up a small scale diagnostic institute. He had the cash and with no family, he had little else to spend it on. Later House was meeting him for lunch to thrash out details and see if it was really possible.

"I can't help everybody wanting a piece of me."

"What am I supposed to do with your department?"

"You honestly want my opinion?" he asked, more than a little surprised. She nodded. "Put Chase in charge."

"But Foreman took care of things when you were in Mayfield and then when Jessica was born. He'd expect to get the job."

"He's fine in the short-term, but he's too safe… Chase will take risks if he has to and that's what you need. That's what your patients need."

Again she nodded, appreciating his take on it. She felt terrible for thinking it, but now that he and Cameron had separated his focus would be one hundred percent on his work too. Maybe this was what he needed.

"You're sure he's ready to step up?"

"He's been with me the longest. If he isn't that means I've done a crappy job… Worst case scenario, you bring me in as a consultant on the odd case for an extortionate fee."

"And what about the others?" she pressed.

"Foreman will throw a hissy fit about not getting the promotion, but he'll stay and keep Chase on his toes…. I've sounded Thirteen out about coming with me."

"You did what?!"

"Well, I need an excuse to go into lesbian bars so…" Predictably Cuddy looked none too pleased. "Oh relax! We work well together and apparently I respond excellently to having my ass kicked by a woman who's not afraid to tell me when she thinks I'm wrong." He paused and looked at his girlfriend sincerely. "It means I'll be around when Huntingdon's gets worse too."

Hearing the honest reason, she smiled warmly at him. In spite of his protestations to the contrary, House really did give a crap about the people he worked with. Thirteen especially he felt responsible for after her diagnosis.

"What about Taub?"

"Who cares about Taub?"

"You really want this?"

Casually he shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. What I do know is that I'd be stupid not to see what's being laid on the table… I talked it over with Nolan and he thinks it could be good for me. For us too…. No more being pissed with each other at home after we've argued at the hospital, and if I screw up it'd be my responsibility. It's about time I stood on my own two feet and perhaps I'm ready for that challenge now."

"This still feels like you're taking a step away from me."

"That's the last thing this is," House contradicted forcefully. It was about needing to prove to himself that he could do this. Not only that, but he wanted his kids to grow up proud of him, safe in the knowledge that he provided for them as much as their Mom did. This new venture would give him that peace of mind. Seemingly unconvinced, Cuddy continued to regard him cagily. "I want us to be closer if anything."

"Meaning?"

Abruptly sensing it was time he bit the bullet, he let the air filter into his lungs and allowed the words to come out.

"Marry me."

Immediately confusion etched itself across his girlfriend's features until suddenly she chuckled sardonically.

"Funny, House. So what's the punchline?"

"I'm not joking."

"So you've just plucked this idea that you want to marry me out of thin air?... I seem to remember you storming out of a dinner party the last time this was even mentioned."

"Things have changed since then."

"You are the most anti-marriage person I have ever met," Cuddy insisted, feeling strangely vulnerable all of a sudden and sitting bolt upright in the bed and pulling the duvet around her. "If this is you playing a prank on me I'm not amused."

With a sigh House got out of bed, walked over to the wardrobe and fumbled around to find something on top of it, his eyes widening in relief when he finally felt and grasped the small, black velvet box.

"I had to find somewhere you weren't tall enough to reach," he explained mirthfully, climbing back under the covers and opening the box to reveal a white gold, diamond solitaire.

In front of him Cuddy's jaw dropped to almost cartoon proportions.

"Is this…?"

"An engagement ring? Yeah. I've had it for weeks… I was going to propose to you tomorrow, but then you sprang the conference on me."

"You think marriage is stupid," she stuttered back.

"It is for ninety-nine point nine percent of people, but I think what we have is special… It's exactly three years since I wandered into your office and took a punt. We've been through so much since then… We cooked up a baby, we split up, you adopted Rachel, I went crazy, I nearly lost you and somehow we've managed not to kill the chimps we live with… All of it has made me realise just how much I love you… I want this Cuddy. I want you to be my wife." For what seemed like an eternity for him she alternated her gaze between the ring and his face, not saying a word. The wait was so agonising eventually he felt the need to break the silence. "Look if you don't want this or you're not ready it doesn't matter."

Feeling humiliated he closed the box turned away, and was about to get up again when she tugged on his arm.

"No!" Seeing his shoulder sag further, she went on. "I mean no, I'm ready for this. I want this too… I'm just in shock."

House scratched his head, more than a little puzzled.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes!"

"In that case…" Taking the ring out, he slipped it onto her finger and admired his handiwork.

"It's beautiful," she gushed, raising her hand up into the light and revelling in the spectrum of colours that bounced off the diamond's facets. It was tasteful, classic and, well, perfect. "Although when I was a girl I never imagined I'd get proposed to by a guy who was stark naked."

"That's why most marriages go wrong," he cracked back, nudging her playfully in the ribs.

"Sure."

Grinning, she moved in to claim his mouth in a long lingering kiss, before breaking away and laying her head on his heart, her eyes instinctively closing as she listened to the rhythmic, comforting beat.

Underneath her he found himself doing the same.

With each other, in the place they'd made their home with their children, they both found the one thing they'd been looking for all of their lives.

Peace.


End file.
